The Significance of Ice Cream
by sometime north of reality
Summary: AU Rachel (Raven) finds herself fading away as she begins her senior year in high school. Then, she meets Xander, whose fallen prey to more than just reality. Can Rachel survive high school, face her own demons, and with the help of her friends, save Xander from his? Rob/Rae romance. Based on Trigon and Slade story arcs.
1. Chapter 1: The Significance of Ice Cream

**Author's Note**: I'm new to this, so if someone would tell me how to format this, I would be extremely grateful. I think I've fixed it, but I'm not entirely sure. I could use help with the summary as well. Also, there is a small amount of swearing so if anyone objects to the rating, please let me know. Otherwise, enjoy. Even if you don't see the Rob/Rae, I promise it'll be there.

**Disclaimer**: I own the world in which my story takes place and my word choice. Otherwise, regrettably, however much I love Robin, nothing is mine.

**Ice cream and Secrets**

Rachel imagined an energy field around herself to shelter her from her classmates. She'd tried to imagine herself in a different reality, but had been unable to maintain the image. It was only fifth period on the first day of school and denial was already dead. Reality insisted on its loud intrusions into her daydreams.

"In the name of fuck . . ."

"That ain't no way to learn me history!"

Rachel walked to her locker and felt seconds of her life drift away as she listened to her fellow students mutilate her native language. In one year, she'd have a high school diploma and an International Baccalaureate diploma and she would leave crowded hallways behind her forever. Maybe she'd even have a purple moped. Rachel did not know what her future would bring, but she was optimistic. All of life could not be the mixture of boredom, annoyance and perfectionist terror that was high school.

When she reached her locker, it was blocked a crowd of joyous, chatting friends, all too completely absorbed in their conversation to notice that their position was inconveniencing others. Rachel watched as another student tried to politely ask the crowd to let him through. Once, Rachel had been a polite, respectful student who would never push her way through a crowd. Now, she raised a hand to either side and walked forward, Moses parting the sea to reach her locker. She wished she could use telekinesis; it'd be a lot more fun. The crowd, noticing her for the first time, parted before her. Rachel took a moment to enjoy the feeling of power that came from parting crowds with a wave of her hand as she took her calculus book out of her messenger bag.

Having rid herself of the heavy book, Rachel set off for English.

In English, there was a seating chart that was very different from the one she would have chosen. On one side was Caleb, her "rival" and friend, at least in his mind. They were both near the top of their class and she regarded him with good intent that often ended in annoyance. Friendly and slightly ambivalent acquaintance was the best she could grant him. Rachel hoped that his proximity to her would prove to be helpful rather than irritating. She believed he'd matured in the past few years, but sometimes he was still the annoying younger sibling she never wanted. He liked to sneak up on her to try to startle her. He'd only scared her once, but she had reacted to the same degree she usually did. She didn't jump or scream; her shoulders tensed slightly and then she looked up at him. Caleb never knew he had actually won once. To Caleb's credit, he didn't try anything today. His entrance was uneventful. The same could not be said of the person who sat on the other side of her. The seat remained empty even after the bell rang.

The teacher, Mrs. Quin stood up, but to Rachel's surprise, didn't start the usual frighten the students with the difficulty of the class and go over the syllabus in mind numbing detail.

Instead, after the initial welcome, Mrs. Quin said, "We're starting with an activity to get to know the person sitting next to you. It's important you get to know each other because you will be partners for the rest of the semester. I want you to start by exchanging names and asking each other one question. I want you to think about the question for a moment, because I don't want it to be favorite color or number of pets. I want you to ask a question that really reveals something about who you are."

Rachel's partner was, to her relief and disappointment, an empty desk.

Then the classroom door flew open to admit a boy with dark, disorderly hair and bright blue eyes. Rachel looked at him, noticed the rest of the class gaping, and looked away, using her peripheral vision to satisfy her curiosity.

The new boy flashed a smile at the teacher.

"Sorry, Prof. I got lost. Then I went to room 221 instead of 122. The teacher there gave me directions, but either this is a hard classroom to get to or I'm terrible with directions, because I got completely lost. I finally wandered into the right room though," the boy said, aiming for and succeeding at charming rambling.

"At least I hope I did. Mrs. Quin, IB English HL 2?" he added.

"If you're Xander Davol, you're in the right place. Your seat's next to-"Mrs. Quin checked the seating chart "- Rachel Roth. Raise your hand Rachel."

Rachel raised a hand in a casual, disinterested wave and tried to will her blushing cheeks white. She could feel her classmates' eyes raking over her like claws.

Xander saw her embarrassment, but pretended not to notice. Shy meant handle with care. He slid into the seat next to her, gently met her eyes, and inclined his head slightly. When Rachel returned his nod, he smiled and looked away. Rachel let out a soft sigh of relief. The moment was over; she could breathe again.

"For those of you who arrived late," Mrs. Quin began with a look at Xander, "you're learning your partner's name and asking a significant question. We'll regroup in ten minutes." She gestured for the class to begin.

Rachel turned to Xander.

"Hi partner," she said.

"Hello, Miss Roth," he replied. "I'm Xander."

Rachel was young and female. She couldn't help it if some suppressed part of her heart responded to his smile and courtesy, but she shut it down.

"Call me Rachel." She grinned at him. "So, do you have a very significant question you're dying to ask me or shall I come up with something?"

"I do as a matter of fact." Xander grinned at her, a bit impishly. Rachel returned the look, beginning to forget her earlier shyness.

"Oh?" she asked, tilting her head at him. "Do tell."

Just then, Mrs. Quin came by to see how the questions were going. Xander reconsidered his question, but decided Mrs. Quin would be much easier to win over than Rachel and that he could still win over both of them.

"Well Rachel, if we're going to work together on English assignments, there's one question I must know the answer to: What's your favorite ice cream flavor?"

"Now, Xander," Mrs. Quin chided, "isn't that a bit of a superficial question?"

_Rhetorical question. Strike one_, Rachel thought. Xander didn't mind.

"You'd be surprised," he said. "Rachel?"

"Mint chocolate chip," she told him.

"Yum," he said. "Dark chocolate, milk chocolate, M&Ms? This is your ideal ice cream."

"Dark chocolate M&Ms without a doubt," Rachel replied. By now the class was watching. Xander knew, but Rachel was too engaged in the conversation to care.

"An excellent choice. Now, Mrs. Quin, the significance." Xander flashed Mrs. Quin his most charming smile, but his next words were addressed to Rachel. Looking into her eyes, he said, "The base ice cream is mint chip. It's cool, sophisticated, a bit understated but refreshing. M&Ms are fun and colorful. I'd say under the mint, you've got a playful, joyful, maybe even mischievous side. And dark chocolate . . . Underneath everything, you're rich and fulfilling. From your favorite ice cream, I think we'll get along rather well."

Mrs. Quin was speechless and the class was quiet. To everyone's surprise, Rachel laughed. Her laugh was light and warm.

"Well played," she laughed. "Symbolism, flattery, and show up the teacher. Congratulations on winning over the entire class."

"Thank you." Xander gave her a mock bow. "Now, I believe it's your turn to ask me a question."

Xander looked deep into her eyes, asking her not to remember the class and think about them thinking about her. He wasn't only arranging his own audition at the school; he was re-auditioning her. _Eyes on me_, he thought.

Rachel blinked thoughtfully, her chin still tilted inquisitively at him.

"Where do you wish you were right now?" she asked.

Images Xander worked hard to file away sprang to the front of his mind. His breath caught in his throat.

"What do you mean?" he asked, stalling.

Rachel smiled at him, a little sadly but not completely without mirth. Six billion people on the planet and most of them were just going through the motions of living, really. If someone cut away society the marionettes would collapse in on themselves and fall. It was almost funny.

"You're not the only one who can read your classmates. Students want to talk to their friends, travel the world, play video games. The one place they don't want to be is here. I, personally, would be in a café somewhere in Europe drinking Earl Gray tea – the good kind, loose leaf – and some sort of pastry with chocolate, looking out onto a busy cobblestone street. For company, I'd have either a good book or a good friend, maybe Jinx. Maybe I'd even be lucky enough to have both. What do you want that isn't in a public school English class?"

Now it was Xander who felt the pressure of the audience. Rachel had a splendid re-audition. Xander could see the girls dreaming of romantic corners of Europe and all of the students respecting her view of their English class. Unfortunately, Xander had earned a little bit too much attention with his question. He couldn't answer Rachel's question. He could barely think about it when he was alone let alone answer it with the class watching.

"An excellent question," Mrs. Quin said. "Xander, you did a brilliant job with the significance of ice cream. What do you say to Rachel's question?"

Xander took a deep breath with the lyrics "No good deed goes unpunished", from _Wicked_, echoing in his head.

Then, he smiled.

"There was this time John and I went to the mountains, allegedly to fish. Really, we just sat out in the middle of the lake. It was cold, but I could breathe, and it was . . . nice. We got caught in the rain on the way back and stopped for hot chocolate at some diner. It was pouring outside, but I was warm."

Xander met Rachel's eyes. He was surprised to see an odd brightness in them, like tears shining before they fall. He wondered what he'd said that he hadn't intended to.

"I wish I could stay then," he said.

"A lovely memory. Thank you for sharing it. Now . . ." Mrs. Quin turned to address the other groups and silence became a low murmur and then a quiet roar as the class began to work again.

Xander looked at his desk, tracing the lines another student had carved into it. He stayed there until the bell rang. As he brushed by Rachel on his way out the door, he found himself catching her arm.

"Yes?" she asked.

"What?" he asked her, as if she had stopped him rather than the other way around.

"Yes," she said. "I saw. I don't know what it was, and it's none of my business. You told me a truth in answer to my question, even if it wasn't the truth, so I have no reason to complain. I did see though. I can't help that. If you ever want to tell me what I saw, I'm here. Otherwise, you're clearly intelligent and understand basic literary devices so I look forward to working with you."

"Rachel –"

She turned to meet his gaze, the depths of her brown eyes more present, more real, than the room in which they stood.

"I see a lot of things. Everyone's hiding something, somewhere, or some when and I see a lot of it. That doesn't mean I go in for a closer look. Your life, your secret. I'm going to class now."

Rachel slipped her arm out of Xander's hand and walked away, telling herself that she felt no regret. She had nothing to regret. Was she impressed by her new classmate? Absolutely. Did she find him intriguing? Most definitely. But was she slightly smitten with him and did she have the ability to fall for him? Well, yes she did. She wasn't going to though. She was in a café drinking tea or in the library with no obligations and plenty of time to read everything, so she felt nothing and walked to orchestra.


	2. Chapter 2: To the worst of times

**Author's note:** For anyone who doesn't know Wally is Kid Flash, Victor is Cyborg, Rachel is Raven, and Garfield is Beast Boy. Kori will be Starfire. As for Xander, well wouldn't you like to know? Xander's named for a reason. Also, I like Jinx, so she's friends with Raven. Rachel's a math genius for similar reasons. It's an AU. I can ignore facts if I want to.

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own the characters and I'm still not happy about it. I also don't own any series, book, or tv show I reference. Thank you to a couple of my friends for Kid Sass.

**To the worst of times, To the best of friends**

The second day was Thursday and it was easier. Thursdays were always easier for Rachel. Mondays were the start of the week when Rachel still believed her time would be well spent and she would have fun. On Tuesdays, all hope was dead. Reality had sunk in and the weekend was too far away to provide a light at the end of the long dark tunnel that was a school week. The rest of the week was alright though. Wednesdays meant the week was half way over, Thursdays were almost Friday, and Fridays meant she would be able to go home and read her book, watch an episode of _Sherlock_, or just hang out with her best friend Jinx.

Today wasn't Friday, though. It was Thursday and Rachel's second day as a senior. It was her second day in Physics, her second day in Chemistry, her second day in European studies, and her second day in second year calculus. Now that Rachel was aware of Xander's existence – much more aware than she cared to admit – she discovered that she had a lot of classes with him. His name was alphabetically far away from hers, so she hadn't noticed that he was in all of her morning classes but Physics. Math, however, was the first class without a seating chart.

Rachel walked in and sat down in her favorite spot: second row, column closest to the wall. She didn't care who sat next to her and she reminded herself of her apathy repeatedly. Instead of waiting to see who would join her, she took out her calculus books and started working on the review of implicit differentiation.

Because Rachel wasn't hoping that Xander would sit next to her, she was happy when Victor Stone took the seat to her left.

"Hey, Rae," he said. "You and Jinx break any hearts this summer?"

From anyone other than Victor, Rachel would be offended by both the nickname and the question. Rachel and Jinx had been friends since elementary school and were famous for ruthless intelligence and a shared disinterest in the lesser creatures that most people called classmates. They were also well known, when they still attended the same school, for being beautiful and single. This was Victor though. Victor was a tall athlete to her short and pale math genius, but they'd bonded over his project to build his own car. As far as Victor and Rachel were concerned, he was her brother and her friend.

Rachel grinned at him.

"Well, I had a bit of a fling with Zuko. You know – _Avatar the Last Airbender_. He was absolutely devastated when I called it off, but I met a new series and I suppose all fictional relationships must come to an end," she replied. "Actually, Jinx did meet someone."

"Who?" Victor demanded. He was dating Beatrice now, but he and Jinx had an almost history.

"Still crushing on my best friend. Tisk, tisk Vic. What would Bee say? She met some kid named Wally –"

"Wally West?" a new voice asked.

Rachel had become so absorbed in her conversation that she didn't see Xander come in. He slid into the desk in front of her and turned bright interested eyes onto her.

"What's it to you Boy Wonder?" Victor asked.

"Boy Wonder?" Rachel asked, smirking. To her amusement, Xander blushed and looked away.

Victor grinned at Rachel.

"Hate to break it to you Rae," he said, "but you've got a rival. This kid was just placed into third level computer programming. That took you an entire semester."

"I remember that class," Rachel said, completely deadpan. "Some kid showed me how to turn on the computer then I made a program to represent fingerprint patterns as fractions. The teacher wouldn't teach me how to raise variables to a power. It was annoying."

Xander gaped at her.

"You couldn't turn on the computer?"

Rachel shrugged nonchalantly.

"That's irrelevant. We were talking about Jinx and Wally," she replied.

"So we were. Ah Wally." To everyone's surprise, Xander cackled, a mischievous grin on his face.

"What?" Victor asked and Rachel quirked an eyebrow at him.

"I can't believe anyone's dating Wally. I've known him for years, back when his pickup lines consisted of 'Hey beautiful. I thought it was hot in here, but then I saw you.' Actually, that was pretty decent for Kid Sass, as long as the room wasn't actually freezing and he didn't try to explain that he was trying to tell the girl she was hot" Xander told them.

Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Charming. I suppose now we all understand what Jinx sees in him now," she replied.

Actually, Rachel did know. Jinx had been going through a hard time and there hadn't been much Rachel could do. The ice angel was too immersed in darkness herself to pull her best friend out of it. They'd both begun to fade as the energy required to laugh in the face of ordinary life was drawn from their will to survive. At separate high schools, they couldn't even rely on each other for a moment of levity. They looked around, saw the complete idiots that surrounded them, the idiots who were the smartest 5% of the school, and the friends wondered what that meant for the two of them. Then, Wally came and told Jinx that she was beautiful, that she was smart, that she could be better than the struggling girl who attacked society to feel something as she disappeared. Wally brought Jinx back from the edge of the abyss.

Rachel would be okay.

She always was.

"Actually," Xander sighed, "he's a good guy. I'm glad if he's found someone. You said she was your friend?" He looked questioningly at Rachel, wanting some assurance that his friend's heart was in good hands.

"Yeah," Victor laughed, "those two have been friends since the beginning of time. They were trying to convince our teachers that the classroom was better suited to anarchy than totalitarianism while the rest of us were still learning to cut out shapes."

Rachel laughed.

"That's not quite true. I refused to wear any color other than blue and purple and I was obsessed with the weather. My word when we were studying the letter 'c' was cumulonimbus. Luckily, I had Jinx. She dressed in all pink, was abnormally clumsy – things just went wrong around her - and could draw these really great cartoons of our classmates. We used to come up with these elaborate pranks and she'd draw it so we could have fun without being punished. In retrospect, brilliant though we thought we were, we were mostly adorable.

We didn't stay that young though. People never do. We went to middle school with stars in our eyes and left with the knowledge that the world was full of lies that most people, even our teachers and former idols, didn't see. That was when we got the reputation for being heartless. Cynicism is idealism's growing pains."

Rachel broke off. That was more than she'd planned on saying, but she wanted Xander to know Jinx. She loved Jinx for all that she was and she wanted him to as well.

"She's a lot of fun and a lot of work," Rachel explained, "but she's also smart, brave, and completely loyal. Wally's earned her loyalty and her love, so if they're good together, they'll be happy."

Victor stared at Rachel. He understood her fairly well, but he never really got Jinx. It was one thing if quiet, sarcastic Rachel was hiding a little darkness – still waters run deep and all that - but he never quite understood how someone as flashy and flamboyant as Jinx could be anything less than unwaveringly happy.

Xander understood and he owed an explanation in return.

"Wally has a knack for putting his foot in his mouth, eating a revolting amount of food while remaining stick thin, and having an absurdly good time, but he's seen the dark side too. He's older than he acts and he can love her."

"Good," Rachel said.

There was an awkward silence that Rachel really wished she knew how to break.

"To the new couple," Victor said, holding up an imaginary glass.

"Cheers," Xander and Rachel replied, tapping their fists to Victor's in the air above their heads.

And the bell rang.


	3. Chapter 3: Welcome to the family

**Reviews:** Thank you **TheBlindRaven** for being my first review ever! To address your confusion, as of right now the Titans don't have powers. If adults attacking defenseless children becomes too dark, I reserve the right to change that. For now, the characteristics of their powers are included in their personalities. As for Xander, yes he does remind you of Red-X doesn't he. I do know that Robin is Richard Grayson and that's all I'm going to say about that. Just know that I'm using and rearranging some Titans episodes. Apprentice, then Masks, then Haunted, then The End, and finally my own end to the Slade story arc if all goes as planned. On the subject of Raven being a little OOC, her father's only figuratively a demon, she doesn't need to control her personality to control her powers, and she was raised on Earth by her mother, not Azarath. This Raven is allowed to show Happy and she lives in a different world. Also, I have a few chapters to build friendships, not seasons. Finally, thank you for liking my story despite the pairing!

**Author's Note:** Er . . . This is kind of fluffy and happy with a side of typical high school, but I needed to show the Titans bonding. If anyone hates it, review and tell me how I can fix it. At least this is my second to last chapter of introducing characters. All we need is Starfire. Then the real story begins!

**Disclaimer:** So Robin and Raven fall in love while defeating Slade, Jinx and Kid Flash become regular characters, and Batman stops by the Tower. If you don't remember that, it's obviously because I own nothing. I suppose I should add that during this episode of _Name that Book_ I don't own any of the books either.

* * *

**Welcome to the family**

The cafeteria was a terrifying place, but amid yelling voices and crowded halls, the dull cement courtyard outside was lovely. The courtyard was still bland and lunch was still a rather pointless meal, but Rachel loved the feeling of the early afternoon sun at the beginning of autumn. The sun reached out with soft, warm fingertips and caressed her face while she inhaled the invigorating breeze that hinted at winter to come. Peace.

"Hey Rae-chel, want to hear a joke about a quail?"

Rachel opened her eyes and gave Garfield Logan a scathing look.

"Do I ever?" she asked.

"Hey, Gar. Leave Rae to her meditation. You know that's the only way this can end peacefully," Victor chided.

If Rachel was being honest with herself, she didn't mind Garfield's immaturity or his jokes. He did irritate her, but he also cared about her and she secretly enjoyed his company. She didn't feel the need to be honest with herself though.

"Go play stankball and tell quail jokes. Just don't do it here," she told him, opening her book. Garfield laughed and ran off to do something. Rachel didn't really care what it was.

She read one line, then another, then a paragraph, then a page, then another. And she was lost.

"I've read that," Xander said, sitting on the step beside her.

Rachel flinched at the abrupt departure from her world of words and Xander felt a moment of remorse.

"You can keep reading if you want," he assured her. "I respect your right to not have your privacy invaded by idiots at lunch."

To his surprise, Rachel put down the book, barely glancing at the page number to remember for later.

"Your conversation isn't such a burden." She smiled. "So, _Skulduggery Pleasant_, Derek Landy. Did you like Fletcher, because I did and I hated Valkyrie for thrill seeking with Caelan?"

Xander blinked.

"You're reading the first book," he said.

"Rereading." Rachel smiled. "I know it's categorized as light horror, but it's relaxing. Besides, I'm still waiting on the Veronica Roth's _Insurgent_ and the next _Game of Thrones_ book to come in at the library."

"I'll admit, I did not take you as a fantasy and adventure lover," Xander confessed. "You seem more James Joyce and Edgar Allen Poe."

"And you seem more _Sherlock Holmes_ and _All Quiet on the Western Front_," Rachel retorted, "yet you've heard of every book I mentioned. I do like _The Telltale Heart_, but I also like mystery, adventure, and romance and I've read a lot of books. I can't be pretentious, intellectual and dark all of the time."

"I do like _Sherlock Holmes_," Xander admitted. "I read some fantasy, mostly _Harry Potter_, but mysteries are my favorite. I don't suppose you have any recommendations?"

"They all have a fluffy romance side even when the crimes being investigated are pretty brutal," Rachel cautioned, a plea not to be judged whispered in every syllable.

"I'm sure I'd survive," Xander replied, rolling his eyes. "Besides, reading books you like is about more than the plot. I don't need more books; I need someone to talk about them with."

Rachel leaned forward, book and lunch forgotten.

"Well, then, I certainly have a list for you. There's _Silent in the Grave_, _The Beekeeper's Apprentice_,_ Brodie Farrell_,_ Amelia Peabody_ . . ."

"Aw, do we have a new pair of love birds?"

Garfield and Victor had returned.

Rachel and, to everyone's surprise, Xander blushed.

"Not every conversation about books ends in romance," Xander said, sort of hoping that he was wrong.

"Yeah," Garfield laughed, "or I don't even want to know what Jinx and Rachel have been getting up too. They always talk in quotes they read."

"You don't want to know what we've been doing, anyways," Rachel replied, deadpan. "Romance isn't the only sin found in books."

"Wha – "

"Besides, love doesn't always play a role in it," Rachel interrupted.

Garfield opened his mouth to retort, blushed, and walked away.

"Riske and well-played. Not bad Rae, not bad at all," Victor laughed. "We'll make a high schooler of you yet."

Rachel shouldn't have wanted to be typical. She was strong, she was independent, and she was above it all, but in that moment she glowed at the praise. She hummed a few bars of some song neither of the boys recognized, something sweet and cheerful, as she opened her book.

Xander blinked.

"Is this always what lunch here is like?" he asked Victor.

"Rae reads, Gar interrupts, they argue, and Rae wins," Victor counted off the points on his fingers. "Yep. That's lunch in this nut shell. Welcome to the family."

Family . . . Xander smiled. In an odd way, Rachel, Garfield, and Victor did seem like a family. Now he was part of the family too. The world was bright and possible because his three new friends bickered at lunch. Xander smiled.

* * *

**Another Author's Note:** I should be able to write the last chapter of introducing characters before I disappear for a while to write a 10-15 minute speech for English. I do guarentee action eventually, but it'll be a bit.


	4. Chapter 4: Sunrises and Red meteors

**Author's Note:** One of my favorite me quotes, if that isn't too narcissistic, is "He asked for my services in the name of humanity. I declined." Raven, of all people, is one of the few characters I've written not practicing dark magic. Somehow, I've still managed to bring you an almost disturbing amount of fluff. That ends soon, but not quite yet. Here is one last chapter of introduction, and it is shamelessly light. Angst is on its way, but first Starfire has to make her grand entrance. I ask your forgiveness for all OOCness. I could hardly have an alien fight scene at the high school.

**Disclaimer:** For once, I'm thankful I don't own the Titans. Starfire fans would hate me and rightly so.

* * *

**Sunrises and Red meteors**

Days passed, weeks passed. Rachel laughed, Xander breathed and there was calm in the midst of madness.

One morning in November, Rachel arrived at school earlier than usual and ventured down a corridor she hadn't seen before, egged on by the tantalizing hint of frosty air that lingered in front of her. Inhaling deeply, she walked up a flight of stairs and found herself beside a door that led out to the roof. Rachel was a well-behaved rule-abiding student, but curiosity was one of her secret sins. As long as she never acted on a combination of curiosity and stupidity, she'd be able to talk her way out of any trouble she got into.

Rationalizing complete, she walked, cautiously and hesitating, onto the roof.

To her great surprise, Rachel wasn't alone. Standing near the edge of the roof, looking out beyond the horizon, was Xander. Rachel turned to leave, but reconsidered when she noticed just how close to the edge Xander was standing. She could deal with him being a bit on edge, but when he was literally on edge, she worried. Rachel was fairly confident she could reduce some of the psychological damage resulting from metaphorical impact, but she wasn't so confident if circumstances required her to fly. She proceeded forward quietly.

"Hello, Rachel."

Rachel was still several paces away from Xander, his back still turned towards her, opaque. She wanted some clue, some reassurance, as to why he was there.

"How did you know?" she asked, beginning their game.

"I like sunrises," he told her. "Dawn, the beginning of a new day. It's hopeful."

Then he turned to face her and he was smiling, his eyes warm in the early morning light. Rachel let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"I heard the door open and you do this sharp exhale of annoyance when you're confused. In combination with your distinctive scent of vanilla and sunshine, it was obviously you," he finally explained.

"Are you always Sherlock Holmes this early in the morning?" Rachel asked, channeling her surly seven a.m. night owl and joining Xander on the edge of the roof. She gave a huff of annoyance and watched the cloud that formed in the crisp air.

He laughed softly, almost imperceptibly, and she didn't feel like it was at her.

"I like sunrises too," Rachel finally admitted, softening the silence. "I like the world when it's still asleep and dreaming. It's so still and the air's so clear, but somehow it's so alive."

They slipped back into the ease of silence, watching the world awaken below.

* * *

That day at lunch, Garfield had a cold so they ate inside, away from the biting air.

That day at lunch, Rachel added one more person to the list of people she inexplicably cared about.

Xander and Victor were talking about some sort of video game and Garfield was sitting dejectedly eating his tofu burger, looking miserable, so Rachel read her latest novel and let her grasp on conversation waver. She didn't see Bee come over and greet Victor, standing on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek.

She didn't hear Bee say, "Hey y'all. This is Kori Anders. She's a foreign exchange student and just got here this week. I'm supposed to be showing her around, but I need to make up a history test. Do you mind if she sits with you?"

She did hear Victor say, "Of course, Bee. Hi, Kori. I'm Victor. Welcome to our school." She looked up from her book and saw him wave.

Xander stood up, ever the gentleman, and smiled at her.

"Nice to meet you. My name is Xander," he said.

"It is the pleasure to meet you all," Kori said. "I am called Kori."

She took a step forward and kissed Xander.

It seemed like every student in the room froze and turned as one to look at the two teens, their eyes anime wide. Something inside Rachel was torn between disappearing and ripping the girl in front of her to shreds in a primal rage. Xander was her friend! Why was the beautiful redhead kissing him! Was he kissing her back? That something wasn't Rachel though. Rachel breathed in and exhaled the something to disperse in the room. The room wasn't really watching. They were loudly and exuberantly going about their own lives.

Xander blushed a disbelieving crimson and Kori took a confused step back.

"Dude! What was that?!" Garfield exclaimed. "That was not cool!"

"You're supposed to eat with us, not eat Xander's face!" Victor chastised. "We get that half the girls are in love with Xander, but you don't see all of them coming over here!"

"Is a kiss not the American greeting of custom?" Kori asked her voice faltering.

Rachel realized that the others hadn't heard her over their own shouting. There was too much noise, too much emotion. Emotion was seldom the solution. Rationality was getting lost in the cacophony. She sighed. She really didn't want to this.

"Enough!" she screamed, standing on her chair. Her friends fell silent, shocked.

"Thank you," she said, her voice calm and dangerous. "Xander, sit down. Garfield, Victor, sit down and think for a moment about whether or not you should really be yelling at the foreign exchange student. Kori . . . no, that is not how Americans generally greet each other. We can work on waving another time. Right now, hi. I'm Rachel. We're happy to have you here, so please just sit down before anyone else starts looking at us."

Blushing furiously, Rachel stepped down from the chair. She really didn't like people looking at her like that. She could give orders when only her sanity was left standing, but she really didn't enjoy doing it.

Kori flung her arms around Rachel.

"Thank you friend Rachel!" she exclaimed, earlier embarrassment behind her now that she had been accepted. "You can teach me American customs and we can go to the mall of shopping! We shall be the best friends!"

"Ermph," Rachel said, disentangling herself. "Let's just eat lunch right now. We can be the best friends later."

"Glorious!" Kori exclaimed.

She did an awful lot of exclaiming. And "glorious"? Rachel suspected, as she later would confirm, that Kori used "Glorious!" the way Rachel used "Really?" (Rachel was sarcastic of course): as a philosophy for life.

"Have you ever tried this glorious yellow substance?" Kori asked her new friend, squirting a generous amount onto both their plates.

"You mean mustard?" Rachel asked, her voice expressionless.

* * *

**A/N:** Yes! All of the Titans have been assembled! Bring on the Robin angst . . . I mean I'll update as soon as I can. Thank you for reading and please review!


	5. Chapter 5: I can handle it

**Author's Note:** 12 minutes! Take that, Faulkner! I actually finished my speech for English and my reward for that is writing one more chapter before the school week starts. Warning: reading this after the previous chapter may cause emotional whiplash. This is really different from the last couple chapters, so do you like it? Should I change it? Also, there's this scene in the show when Robin's sort of losing it while he questions a man about Slade and Raven stops him. I always wondered why it was Raven. She's not his girlfriend or second in command, so why her? One of my next chapters will be based on that scene.

**Reviews: TheBlindRaven**: Well thank you. The roof scene was a lot like one in the tv series and I'm glad you thought I did a decent job with Starfire. Writing her was a little challenging. I always thought the whole Rob/Rae love birds thing was funny too. You're still really awesome for reviewing! Normally only my BFF reads anything I write.

**Disclaimer:** Somewhere there is a mini Robin happy-dancing because I don't own the Teen Titans. I don't even merit a full-size Robin! (Sobs.)

* * *

**I can handle it**

Psychology was a relatively easy class, or at least as easy as IB classes could be. Rachel was only there because she had no interest in her other choices: theatre or business. Rachel would gladly take personality tests to avoid having to do skits or role plays. If she learned something about people, so much the better. Life was enough of a struggle to exist instead of acting. She didn't need a class to teach her to wear a mask.

Neither, she suspected, did Xander, but their friendship was based on a mutual respect for privacy. She wondered sometimes, when his laugh was a little late or his assessment of a situation a little cold, but his secrets were none of her business. Somehow, it still surprised her to see him in psychology. He was smart and charming with an excellent understanding of people. She would have thought that made him likely to excel in business.

She asked him once, why he wasn't in business, the class her school was known for. He told her he didn't need to be. He was more likely to need to be a psychologist than to run a business. Rachel laughed on cue, but she knew there was a bitter joke there that wasn't intended for her.

Rule one of their friendship: You don't need to know what it is. Just accept it.

Rachel suspected that she had a knack for that rule. She deduced what she needed to know and understood when she had no right to inquire.

Situations when she had to turn away from Xander so that she wouldn't spook him were becoming less frequent though. She suspected Kori was a large part of that. Xander liked her. That much was obvious even to relationship challenged Rachel. Xander blushed and stumbled over words when he talked to, about, or around Kori. Kori obviously felt the same way. She exclaimed over little things and shared all of the joy of her discoveries with Xander. It was sweet, really.

It was a little too sweet. Rachel almost wondered whether Kori would be able to handle the great reveal when Xander stopped hiding, stopped lying. Rachel could. She knew more about Xander than he'd meant to show her. Rachel wouldn't wonder. Kori was her friend too. Even though Kori insisted on painting Rachel's nails, and taking her shopping, and exclaiming over everything – honestly, Rachel liked Kori's enthusiasm. It made her feel alive. Besides, Kori took an interest in Rachel's hobbies too. Kori really did want to be friends with Rachel. They were friends.

Friends don't have feelings for their best friend's boy. Rational, calm, intelligent people don't fall for a stubborn, spiky-haired classmates. Clearly, Rachel had no feelings for Xander.

"So that's it then. Problem solved," Rachel muttered.

"Talking to yourself?" Xander asked. "Glad to hear you don't have problems or I'd be concerned."

"We wouldn't want that. Putting that much strain on your brain might cause it to implode."

Xander was about to respond with what Rachel was sure would be a very poor retort when one of the office aides came into the classroom with a note. Both teens watched with the interest that notes from the office, for some strange reason, never failed to inspire.

"Envelope," Rachel said, starting an observation and deduction game with Xander. "That means it's very official or it's from home."

"Handwritten," Xander countered. "That means it's probably not official."

"Something from home, then," Rachel mused. "Why write a message when one can call or text? It's probably not a note, so that leaves some sort of object."

"My guess is keys or money," Xander began.

"Xander," the teacher called, reading the front of the envelope.

Xander flashed a bright smile at Rachel that she returned despite her best efforts not to.

"I guess we're about to find out," he said.

Xander ripped open the envelope and grinned as he walked back to Rachel.

"Looks like we were both wrong," he said. "It is a –"

Xander's entire body drained of all color and his hands took on a slight blue tinge as he broke into a cold sweat.

"Excuse me," he said to Rachel, his voice dead. He barely had the breath to speak.

"Bathroom," he explained to the teacher as he took the hall pass from her desk, always the responsible student. The teacher didn't object. She'd known Xander long enough to know that he wasn't going to cause trouble and he did look like he was about to be sick.

Rachel sat at her desk, motionless. Her general guidelines of behavior did not cover this scenario. Slowly, she stood up and walked to the front of the class, to the teacher's desk where Xander had smiled at her a few moments before.

"Xander told me he wasn't feeling well earlier and that the room was spinning a little," Rachel lied. "Perhaps I should go check on him?"

She was blatantly lying and she suspected the teacher knew it. The teacher also knew her though. If Rachel said something was true, regardless of the accuracy of her statement, the world would only function properly if the person addressed listened.

"Of course," the teacher said. "Go make sure he's okay. You have my permission to take him to the office if he's not feeling well," with a knowing, just between us girls smile, "whether or not he wants to go."

"Thank you," Rachel said and she left.

The halls were empty except for Xander. It wasn't that surprising really, the absence of other people. Class was almost over so it was too late for students to choose to leave their classes and too soon for them to have to. It was eerie though. The classroom had been crowded, but when she shut the door behind her, she and Xander were alone on the planet.

"Rachel," he said. His back was to her and he leaned his head against the wall, propped up by his clenched fists. He sounded angry, he sounded afraid, he sounded alone.

"Hey," she said simply. She was aware of how inadequate her answer was, how her voice failed to fill the echoing silence in the hall.

Rachel walked towards him, but she knew better than to touch him. When her footsteps stopped, his voice started.

"You know that you can't know. You do know that, don't you? You're not supposed to but – I just can't. Not here, not now, not with you, not with him."

The words tripped over each other, fighting to escape.

Rachel was so close that only a butterfly's wing separated her arms from his back.

Xander turned to her, suddenly, as if flinching in reaction to a noise she couldn't hear, and the gap between them closed.

He leaned into her and then his arms were around her and his face was buried in her hair. She hugged him back, fiercely to show him she was there, that she cared, gently to remind him that he wasn't trapped. He stood there, shaking, almost crying, inhaling her scent. Vanilla and sunshine. Peace.

Xander couldn't let his world encroach on hers. He was stronger than that. He was better than that. He could let himself collapse into her arms and cry, but he wouldn't. Even tainted heroes don't cry. He felt sick.

Xander pushed Rachel away and ran into the bathroom.

Once again, Rachel found herself at a loss. It wasn't that he was in the men's bathroom. Rachel was practical to the point where rules were factors in her decision-making rather than restrictions. Rachel could go anywhere she wanted to as long as she was willing to face the consequences. It wasn't that.

He'd looked at her with something akin to horror and she couldn't see him look at her like that again. She wanted so badly to help, but she was afraid to make it worse. Rachel sat down outside the bathroom door, on the cold, hard tile, in the cold, empty hall, in the world and listened to Xander retch.

When he walked back out, he smiled at her, but the lightness was gone. There was a fire in his eyes and it burned cold and fast.

"You needn't have waited," he said. "I'm fine. It's probably just a virus. It'll pass."

"So many things do," Rachel sighed.

He looked at her, the slightest crack in his façade beginning to show.

"I'm fine," he told her again.

"You're allowed to be," she replied.

"I can handle it," he told her.

"Okay," she said. "Make sure that you do. It's your right, but if you ever can't I will."

Rachel brushed a strand of hair out of Xander's eyes, smiled at him, a little sadly, and walked to her next class.

* * *

**A/N:** So . . . how was my first serious chapter? Please write another one right away or do the world a favor and forget your fanfiction password? Please review!


	6. Chapter 6: Taking Flight

**Author's Note:** I'm back! You'll be delighted to know that I survived my presentation. Unfortunately, I still haven't written the essay and I have other things to do, so there may not be many updates this weekend. On a happier note, I'm very close to the Haunted spin-off chapter. I'll try to get there this week, but it may not be possible. This chapter is when the Titans really become the Titans. The reality this story takes place in has no super villains, so the enemy is a lesser threat, but I still see the Titans fighting evil together. I did struggle with the fight scene, so for anyone who thinks this chapter is less than realistic, review and give me suggestions or simply read my pen name. I said this was an AU. I never defined the universe.

**Reviews: **

**TheBlindRaven**, thank you and thank you for reviewing. You understood Xander's excuse correctly and I tried to address, if not Xander's reasoning, at least Rachel's understanding of his reasoning in this chapter. Xander wants to keep Rachel away from . . . you'll find out later, but he doesn't care if she believes him as long as she stays away. Also, though he does expect her to go along with his excuse, some part of him wants her to find out the truth. Sorry for the confusion and I am so glad you're still reading this!

**Guest: **Sorry about the Skulduggery plot spoilers. That did not occur to me. As for Red-X, eehsh. I sort of wish I hadn't named Xander Xander, but it's part of the plot. On a completely irrelevant note, I really wish I knew who Red-X was.

**Disclaimer:** I asked a friend to get me Robin for Christmas and was informed that the Titans aren't real. That makes me seem creepy and I still don't own the Teen Titans.

* * *

**Taking Flight**

Rachel half wished that she had done as her psychology teacher advised and forced Xander to go home. There was no reason for her to take such an action; she knew he wasn't really getting sick. She wished he would at least pretend to believe his own lie, though, rather than pretend that nothing had happened. If he left, he could at least deal with whatever he was dealing with without having to maintain the illusion of normalcy. Rachel knew from experience how hard it was to sit quietly in her classes, smiling through the cracks in her wall of lies.

Xander didn't leave though. Going home to recover would be a concession to weakness and the Boy Wonder never surrendered. He seemed to have some compulsion to show that he was indestructible. He continued to blush and smile with Kori, laugh at Garfield's less idiotic jokes, and talk music and cars with Victor.

Xander put on a good show. Rachel had to grant him that. He swirled around the stage waving a curtain of colorful brightness like a magician distracting the audience from the deceit. Look at the boy smile. Look at the boy laugh. Look at him walk upside down at the sky as he orbits the earth, forever falling towards reality. Isn't it amazing folks? Isn't he wonderful?

The naïve audience applauds with vague interest and innocent enthusiasm. It's a lovely trick, but after all, that's what magicians are for.

Rachel really hoped it was an act. She almost wondered if Xander had been creating his own reality for so long that he believed in it. She hoped not. If he had, Rachel wasn't sure if she'd be able to catch him when everything came crashing down.

Sometimes, Rachel wondered if she wanted to be there when he fell. Before the mysterious envelope, he used to smile at her when they were in the middle of a group or becoming lost in a crowd. The smile was private, a message just for her. It said, _I know you're here, my friend. I see you and I'm glad we're sharing this moment._ Rachel found it disturbing that he still smiled at her like that. It was the same look, but it no longer represented trust and a beginning friendship. The new, almost identical, look said, _See me? See how nothing's changed?_ The look was wrong. Rachel still felt her lips automatically curve slightly upward in friendly response, but something had changed. Now, the smile was another lie.

Yet, somehow, nothing had changed. Rachel had shared a small part of her life with Xander, and in doing so, opened her soul to him. She wasn't capable of closing herself off again and she was weary of isolation. She would be there, to help him fly or ease his fall.

With her decision made, the rest of Wednesday was a normal day for Rachel. She attended her classes and ate lunch with her friends. After they had finished eating, but before the bell rang, they returned inside, exhilarated and exhausted by the chill in the air. Rachel and Xander fell behind the others, caught up in their discussion of the quiz they'd taken the period before.

Unbeknownst to them, Kori bounded ahead. This was not an uncommon occurrence. Kori tended to flit about like a hummingbird darting from flower to flower. It was not something that Rachel had a reason to notice when her not inconsiderable observation abilities were otherwise occupied.

Rachel didn't look up from her conversation until she heard Kori's furious exclamation.

"Do the leaving alone of her!" Kori raged at another group of seniors, pushing her way into the center of their group to stand beside a sophomore girl.

The girl was visibly younger than the rest of the group, still more girl than woman. She was in the gawky stage of growth, with baby fat still visible in her cheeks, and she was sniffling as she tried not to cry. Beside her, Kori looked like a Greek Goddess or an avenging angel, her green eyes blazing with righteous fury.

Rachel hated bullies as much, if not more, than the next student, but she was less than fond of many things. Schools had security guards for a reason. The sophomore girl wasn't Rachel's fight. Kori was different; Kori would always be Rachel's fight.

"Do the leaving alone of her," one of the senior's mimicked, his voice obnoxiously breathy and high-pitched. "You're so stupid. They shouldn't let foreigners come if they can't even speak English like a normal person."

Rachel didn't do righteous, but she could definitely feel barely controlled outrage bordering on loathing. To one side, Xander's hands clenched into fists and on the other Victor and Garfield's faces were serious, their bodies tensed in preparation for a fight. They took a step forward as one to show defiance and announce their solidarity with Kori. The world became dangerously cold and bright.

"And yet her Tamaran far surpasses your English," Xander snarled, walking up to the group's apparent leader.

The leader smirked at the Xander, taking his shorter stature and slighter frame as a sign of weakness.

"You think you can take me?" the leader smirked, shoving Xander back a step.

Rachel took another step forward.

"Does he need to?" she asked, yawning. "All this macho is getting dull. While we undoubtedly have the beginnings of a fight here, I'd recommend leaving it at a tense conversation. I have other things to do."

"Just walk away," Victor said.

"I'd listen," Garfield said. "Bad things happen to people who ignore her advice." He winked at Rachel as she glared at him

The leader sneered down at Xander.

"Is the little boy afraid?" he goaded Xander. "Does the coward need to run home to his mommy?"

Rachel saw Xander's control splinter even before the leader threw the sophomore girl into the door of a locker. Xander attacked before the girl's small body slid listlessly to the dusty floor.

"Go!" he yelled, calling his friends into action. His yell also spurred the leader's friends into joining the fight.

Rachel and her friends did not look like a strong fighting force to the outside observer, but they were much stronger than they were given credit for. Victor was the tallest, a strong athlete and a steady, determined fighter. Garfield was small and quick, his spontaneity and lack of attention giving way to unpredictability and quickness. Kori was surprisingly strong and unsurprisingly fierce. She felt the reason for her anger coursing through her veins as she defended the girl. Even short and not remotely athletic, though fit, Rachel had hidden talents. She was clever enough and observant enough to attack opponents without exposing herself to more than she could handle and had a lithe grace in her movements. Also, unlike Victor, Kori, and Garfield, she had experience.

Xander was the most deceptively skilled. He looked reasonably athletic, but not enough to account for the way he seemed to fly, his shoes barely skimming the ground as he leapt through the air. Rachel also observed that he'd had some martial arts training and stored the knowledge in the back of her mind for later use.

The friends became a cohesive unit as they fought their enemies, becoming more of a team than a group of friends. Rachel knew when Kori was going to team up with her to stop a particularly determined opponent, when Garfield was about to dart in front of her, when Victor needed her help as he was being cornered, and when Xander needed her shoulder to act as a springboard for his next flight. They were one. They were alive. They were unbeatable.

As suddenly as the fight began, it was over. Xander threw the leader into the same wall the sophomore had hit moments before. There was a loud huff as the air raced out of the leader's lungs and he gasped for air. One of his friends pulled him to his feet and the bullies ran down the hall, away from the new alpha pack.

When the security guards finally arrived, they found Rachel, Victor, Xander, and Garfield standing protectively around Kori, whose arms were around the sobbing sophomore. The teens had odd smiles on their faces, a mixture of contempt, sorrow, and triumph, but there was another element to their smiles. For the first time, they experienced the rush of learning to fly together.

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**A/N:** Please review, especially if you have tips on how to write fight scenes! I can do really disturbing torture scenes, but the art of punching people in the face still eludes me.


	7. Chapter 7:Flying and Falling

**Author's Note:** I still haven't finished my essay, but finishing this chapter greatly improved my day if not my homework load. Once again, another update may take a while. We're finally to the first set of big reveal chapters though. This is part one of my Haunted spin-off and I am excited! I adore Haunted. I'm done introducing the team and get to end the Who's Xander story arc. No more fight scenes for me. I can write angst, friendship, and mystery for a bit. This was really fun to write and there's more to come.

**Reviews: TheBlindRaven**, brilliant idea and thank you for sharing it. I'm not planning on making anyone labelled student significant - I would have dropped hints if I was - but I reserve the right to change my mind. I do like the idea, but I'm following a different plot line right now. In the next chapter, you'll finally get the explanation for why I would think it was a good idea to have my main male be named Xander in a Rob/Rae romance. Thanks for sticking with me!

**Khositas**, well thank you. I try. That was both flattering and extremely articulate so I'm grateful and impressed. Thank you for reviewing!

**Anon:** Okay. Thank you for sharing your shipping preferences and interesting theory.

**Disclaimer:** It's for the best that I don't own Teen Titans, but I should definitely be a writer on the Slade story arc. I'm not though. Reality is a sorry place.

* * *

**The Difference Between Falling and Flying**

On Friday, the outside world intruded on the lower levels of academia for a second time.

Rachel and Xander walked back from psychology together, chatting amiably about their weekend plans.

"There's a party I have to go to this weekend. I don't know why I still have to go. I'm not an adorable little kid to be shown off to the pretentious prattling adults anymore," Xander griped, but not as if he really minded.

"A child you," Rachel mused. "That's a strangely horrifying idea. You seem like you would have been a sweet kid with a possibly intentional knack for trouble. 'I didn't mean to set fire to the living room. I was trying to light the candle that smells like frosting.'"

Xander laughed as he opened his locker.

"They have candles that smell like frosting? Yum. I know what I want for my Christmas present. You're actually not that far off about little me, though. I tried to be good, but everything was so much fun to climb on and play with."

His voice trailed off.

"I'm sorry I didn't know you then –"Rachel began. Then she realized Xander hadn't finished speaking. Something had stopped him. His face wasn't as unbearably pale and shocked as it had been when the envelope was delivered in psychology, but he had still lost enough color to concern Rachel.

"Xander," she whispered, his withholding of information leading to her withholding of volume.

"It's nothing," he muttered, shoving his hand almost viciously into his pocket. Rachel heard paper crinkle.

She blinked firmly, hoping that by the time her eyes opened she would know the best course of action. It didn't work. Rachel looked around again with no more idea of how to approach Xander effectively than she'd had before. They were both frozen in the moment, one caught between numerous possibilities, the other trapped by a lack of options.

A locker slammed a short ways down the hall. Rachel flinched and Xander leapt into action. He pinned the student whose locker had closed against the wall.

"Did you put it in my locker?" he snarled. "Do you work for him? Who sent you?"

The shocked student said nothing. There was little that could be said when attacked by a lunatic with a messiah complex.

"Wha- I don't-" the student stammered.

"Answer me, now!" Xander growled, releasing the student only to smash him back against the wall.

Suddenly it was Xander who was pinned against the wall, his heartbeat frantic and erratic. He glared down at Rachel, face contorted with fury.

Rachel's face was calm and impassive. Her expression mild, almost disinterested. Only someone who really knew her could tell that she was terrified, both of and for her friend.

"You said you could handle it," she said.

A small fraction of eternity was spent in silence between them. Rachel's hand, intended to keep him against the wall, lay calmingly over Xander's heart. He could feel his tension lessening as it bled into her hand and down her arm. He could lean into her arm. She would let him up from the wall and he could tell her everything. Xander remembered when he was young and the simple act of telling someone else what was inside his head made the feeling go away. He could relax knowing that the responsibility was shared with someone else. It was a tempting path to take.

Or he could do the right thing and walk away. Rachel would follow him, but not forever.

"We're wasting time," Xander snapped, using the wall to brace himself as he flung Rachel back. "You're going to be late for class."

"And you?" she asked.

"Everything here is a waste of time," he told her, striding towards the front doors.

"In the grand scheme of things, it is likely that the lessons we learn here are pointless," Rachel agreed cautiously, "but enduring now allows us to pursue more enjoyable activities later. Besides, not everyone in this building is pointless."

It was time for Xander to ensure that Rachel never followed him again.

"That," he said, "is where our opinions differ. Goodbye, Rachel."

He forced his features into a small, contemptuous smile as he walked out the door.

Xander didn't break down until he was a few blocks from school. Then he sat down on the curb and rested his face on his hands. He'd made a good effort at playing Xander and attending this high school, but he was so tired. His exhaustion went beyond the sleepless nights and being awakened by his own screaming when he fell finally asleep only to fight a battle he couldn't win, slipping deeper into the dark recesses of his mind and becoming who he fought. He wasn't simply sleep deprived; he didn't want to move any more. It was too much effort. It hurt too much.

He slumped lower, iron spine and perfect posture surrendered in defeat. He didn't cry, though. His eyes burned in expectance of tears that couldn't come.

It began to rain, little more than a drizzle, and the wind was biting and hostile. Both seeped through Xander's sweater and into his soul.

As Xander tried to gather the strength to stand, it was Kori's laugh that gave him hope, but it was Rachel's voice that whispered in his mind, telling him that the situation wasn't as grim as it felt. He was strong enough to get up again.

Rachel wondered if she should cry. She suspected that she was supposed to, but that didn't make it easy for her. People come. People go. Attachment was pointless. Actually, Rachel still cared about Xander because she suspected the slight was intended as a distraction.

The bell rang. Sighing wearily, Rachel walked to class, mentally composing a plausible excuse for her tardiness and making a note to call Xander later.

* * *

Rachel couldn't sleep that night. It was midnight, not especially late for the weekend, but she was exhausted and awake. Obviously her insomnia had nothing to do with not being able to reach Xander. If he'd answered the phone, apologized, and told her what was happening she still wouldn't be able to sleep. The stack of books beside her bed was a testament to her periodic fight with sleeplessness.

She didn't want to read though. She'd tried reading, she'd tried meditating, and now she just sat on the bed holding her clock. Rachel listened to the seconds tick by, the rhythm becoming her tie to existence as her mind wandered.

Then the phone rang. It didn't just vibrate, announcing a text; it rang. At midnight, more than the unexpected sound startled Rachel.

"Hello?" Rachel whispered, concerned that the call would awaken her mother, sleeping a few doors down.

"Rachel!" Kori shrieked, her voice breathless and panicky. "I do not know what to do. Xander called me and he did not sound the okay! I do not understand! Is it the English? If I better spoke the English would I understand?"

"Kori," Rachel interrupted, hearing her friend's voice rising in pitch and hysteria, "I want you to do something for me, okay?"

"It is the okay," Kori replied.

"Okay." Rachel exhaled sharply as she forced herself to regain a sense of calm. "Close your eyes. I want you to breathe in, slowly. Listen to your heartbeat. Count 1…2…3. Breathe out. Count 1…2…3…4. In. Out."

Rachel let her voice drop down, from directive to a soothing murmur, then fade away completely.

"Thank you," Kori said softly after a moment.

"You're welcome," Rachel replied, her voice gentle for a moment before returning to a brisk, businesslike manner. "So what happened? Xander called. What did he say?"

"He said that I had to stay inside. He said 'he is trying to get to me through you, but I won't let him hurt you. I'll stop him. Promise me you'll stay inside. Promise, Kori!' Then something crashed and he yelled and discontinued the call. What should I do?" Kori asked. "I don't want to do the staying if Xander is not the okay."

Rachel considered the question. She had an answer, but it all depended on how many people she was willing to cross to protect her friends. That wasn't a particularly challenging question. She'd do whatever was necessary.

"Ignore what Xander wants you to do," Rachel said. "Let his call make you cautious, but also know that there's no guarantee that Xander's right. Get Bee to take you to my house. I'll text you the address. Also, I live near a dodgy neighborhood, so don't get out of the car unless you see me. I don't care who else you see, even if it's Xander. Stay in the car. I'll meet you at the end of the drive. We'll find Xander together."

"It will be done," Kori announced decisively.

"Bye, Kori. I'll see you soon."

"Goodbye."

Rachel texted Kori and slipped off her pajamas. She lived in a nice enough neighborhood, but the darkness nearby liked to surpass its boundaries. Rachel was wise enough to know that going out in sweats and a t-shirt that said "In your dreams" was an invitation for someone to create a living nightmare. To leave her home late at night, Rachel had to go out as Rachel Roth, the one girl no one who knew the neighborhood would lay a finger on.

Rachel put on tight, dark skinny jeans, a nicer shirt, black boots, and a florescent blue-purple jacket. She'd be instantly recognizable without scaring Kori.

She slunk out of her room and past her mother's doorway. Rachel almost paused and reconsidered. Rachel never had people over and was always the quiet, dutiful child, yet she intended to sneak out to bring a friend home. She didn't reconsider, though. She slipped quietly out the front door and into the night.

The icy air made her shiver, but also sent exhilarating power rushing through her veins. There were shadows flitting about streetlights, but none was so foolish as to approach her. Every eye was on her, yet she remained unseen. She was in her territory and her time.

Rachel perched on the fence at the end of her driveway, under the yellow sulfurous glow of the street light and she waited. Before long, an old car drove up and Kori launched herself out of the passenger seat.

"It is most kind of you to allow me to do the sleeping over," Kori said with a pointed look towards Rachel. Subtle. Rachel allowed herself a moment of amusement before answering.

"Hi Kori. Hey Bee. Thanks for driving Kori over here in the middle of the night."

Bee and Rachel exchanged a look that seemed to hint at their ideas of Tamaranians and their last-minute plans.

"Well, have fun you two," Bee said and she drove off.

"Interesting decision to tell Bee it was a sleep over," Rachel commented, slinging Kori's bag over her shoulder.

Kori shrugged.

"It seemed right," she replied.

"I suppose this has been shrouded in secrecy to the point where lies seem normal," Rachel mused, yawning. "Well, there is no lie convincing enough to get past my mother, so be prepared. I'll tell her what we're doing. She'll probably disapprove, but she can't stop us. Then we'll look for Xander."

"Hi, Angela," Rachel greeted her mother brightly as the door opened.

"Rachel? And you must be Kori," Angela sighed as the light spilling out of the doorway illuminated her daughter. "What brings you two outside at this time of night?"

"Strange phone call from Xander," Rachel replied, gesturing Kori through the doorway and following her inside. "We're going to look for him. It's nothing you need to worry about."

Kori was slightly confused by Rachel's relationship with her mother, but let it go. This night was about finding Xander not understanding Rachel.

"Okay," Rachel's mother sighed again. "Stay safe. Goodnight."

She kissed the top of her daughter's head and returned to her room. Rachel ignored the kiss. She loved her mother, but her mother had made a dangerous mistake in her raising of Rachel. She was so concerned with teaching Rachel not to be how she was when she was younger or like Rachel's father that she didn't notice Rachel was turning away from her. She'd wanted Rachel to be independent and controlled, but hadn't stopped her from becoming distant. It wasn't easy to be the daughter of a self-actualized pacifist and the paragon of evil. Rachel was not either of her parents.

"We need some more information about Xander to figure out where to start looking," Rachel began, but she was interrupted by the doorbell.

She and Kori jumped.

"Did you call someone else?" Rachel asked.

Kori shook her head, frowning anxiously.

Rachel shrugged.

"Alright then," she said as she opened the door.

Cold hands pushed her aside as Xander entered her house, dripping wet, battered, and shaking.

"Rachel, I need your help," he gasped, clinging to her for support. Rachel pulled him closer, trying to lend him some of her warmth.

"It's Kori," he continued. "He's going–"

Then he saw Kori, standing behind Rachel, her eyes wide. Rachel was caught by surprise when Xander threw her back against the wall.

"Why is Kori here? You took her? You're working for him!" Xander shook his head and turned away. "And you were the one I came to for help! I trusted you!"

His voice became low and earnest.

"Let her leave. You don't have to do this, Rachel. You don't have to listen to him."

"Xander," Rachel began, her tone level and reasonable, only her eyes showing her alarm.

Xander did not respond in kind.

"Fine! If you won't help me, I'll do it myself. I'll stop him and I'll take down anyone who gets in my way!" he yelled.

Suddenly, Xander fell to the floor, limbs twitching slightly as he tried to make his uncooperative body stand. Kori stood behind him, arm raised, eyes sorrowful. Rachel walked to join her, worried eyes fixed on her fallen friend. Xander watched his friends as he slipped away from consciousness, screaming betrayal with his eyes.

His silent cries echoed in the stillness.

* * *

**A/N:** I really like this chapter. If it's as much fun to read as it was to write, please let me know. If not, please help me improve. I want to know what you think. Please review!


	8. Chapter 8:Friendship and Fever Dreams

**Author's Note:** I'm still only updating when I can't do any more homework without losing my mind, but winter break is in sight. Soon I can update without the interruptions of actual work! In the mean time, this is not the chapter you've all been waiting for. I'm not giving away the climax this early in the story and telling you who Xander's afraid of would ruin it. This is, however, part two of Haunted and the answer to "Why is there a Starfire/Red-X/Raven triangle in a Rob/Rae story?". Also, without powers Raven obviously can't go into Robin's mind literally, so he has to be out of it enough that he tells her everything. Well, some things, anyway. I'm also limited by the fact that it would be weird if Rachel had her own medical lab at home and by Google Translate not having Romani. Romanian=Romani for the puposes of this story. We never hear Robin speaking Romani, but in some versions he does, and I think it's cool. There are also different versions of when his parents die. I'm going with the youngest, because Batman with little-kid Robin is adorable and sadder. If anyone knows the date when Robin's parents died, please tell me. It has the potential to be important later. With only a little further ado, part two of three of Haunted.

**Reviews: TheBlindRaven**, thank you for making me smile. This person was not after Kori in the series. Xander's not a hero, so he has different problems. The envelope is very much related to Xander's hysteria and all will be revealed at a much later date. I think that answers the next several questions. Yes, you understood Xander when he said Kori and Rachel weren't important to him. They, of course, are very important to him. He was just distancing himself from Rachel. I'm glad you liked it, I'll update more during break, and thank you for reviewing!

**AwkwardEyelinedAsian**, well thank you. I do know exactly where this story is going. It does take some time to get there, though. I hope this chapter fixes the Robinless problem, but if you just don't like how I write him, how can I improve? Robin is a little out of character, but he's been through a lot and not as a hero. Once Haunted is over, he'll be a little bit more like himself. I hope you keep reading.

**Disclaimer: **I own the Teen Titans and The Batman when the entire world is as delusional as Robin is in this chapter. As far as I can tell, that hasn't happened yet. I don't own _The Penderwicks_ or _The Secret Garden_ either. All Romanian is courtesy of Google Translate, so don't blame me if it's wrong. I can say many random things in random languages, but I can't freak out in Romanian.

* * *

**Friendship and Fever Dreams**

Rachel stood in the doorway watching her sleeping friends as she rolled a vial of Xander's blood between her cold palms. She wondered if she was a monster, the creepy demon-girl. Kori was the normal one, the inherently good one. She had been terrified for Xander and refused to leave his side, turning down the other guest room to sleep instead on the couch opposite Xander's bed. Kori's reaction seemed natural to Rachel. Of course she was somewhat hysterical. Kori loved him.

Rachel had been afraid too, but it wasn't the same. She hadn't looked away when they dried him off, horrified by the scars that marred his torso. She hadn't wondered how the world could be so cruel to her friend, because she understood that the how did not matter. It simply was. Rachel felt only sorrow that her friend had been hurt; it was too late for shock.

Even that had been excusable, but to draw blood for a drug test? Rachel was fairly confident that her actions counted as a betrayal of trust. She knew it would be a further betrayal if she picked up the phone and called Victor to have his parents' lab run the test. Her options were fairly limited though. The women's clinic where her mother worked operated too closely with the police for Rachel to send Xander's blood there. They would ask questions that Rachel refused to answer. S.T.A.R. Labs was the only option.

Rachel saw only one compromise that didn't betray Xander completely: Wally. He had known Xander longer than Rachel had, so she suspected that he knew more of Xander's secrets than she was supposed to. Wally was a relatively safe option, if he would agree to help her.

Thanks to Jinx, Rachel had his number. She pushed aside her qualms and dialed.

"Huh?" Wally answered the phone, sleepily.

"Hey, Wally. It's Rachel, Jinx's friend," Rachel said, keeping her voice steady and light.

"Hello friend of my beautiful girlfriend," Wally yawned. "Always a pleasure to awaken to the voice of an angel, but you do know it's the middle of the night?"

"I know." Rachel's voice was flat. She was losing the courage for the request she had to make.

Wally sighed. He was pretty sure he loved Jinx, but he had to admit that Rachel was a little odd. Then again, so was Jinx.

"Now that we've got that cleared up," he said conversationally, "what can I do for you?"

Rachel took a deep breath. She wasn't betraying Xander. She was helping and this was how she had to do it.

"Xander showed up at my house, convinced Kori was going to be kidnapped. I think he's been hallucinating, but I don't know the cause. I need someone to take a blood sample to S.T.A.R. Labs for a drug test. Will you do it?"

Suddenly, Wally was very much, unpleasantly awake.

"Won't they ask awkward questions?" he asked, abruptly businesslike. "Anything to help Xander, but, on the off-chance you're right, I won't get him in trouble."

Rachel smiled grimly. She'd made the request. Working out the details was the easy part.

"Say you're doing a favor for Rachel Roth," she told him. "Victor's parents practically run the place and it's common knowledge I'm eccentric and don't appreciate inquiries into my actions. This isn't the first time I've showed up in the middle of the night with an unusual request. They won't ask and they don't want to know."

"I'll be over in a flash. I remember where from when I drove Jinx home," Wally replied. Then, trying to cheer Rachel up, "Wally out."

"Thank you," Rachel whispered to the emptiness on the other end of the line.

After Wally came and left, Rachel looked in on her friends one last time before returning to her own room. Kori looked calm, a small smile on her face. Xander just looked limp and blank. Rachel hesitated in the doorway, halfway in their reality and halfway somewhere else. There was nothing else Rachel could do until the results came back. It was time for her to sleep.

* * *

"Mă doare! Fă-l să se oprească. Nu lăsați. Nu, te rog!"

Rachel didn't understand why she was awake until Kori flung her door open.

"Rachel! Xander is yelling and I do not understand, and he is asleep, but I cannot wake him and I do not know if he is the okay!"

Rachel was ready for the epiphany that it was all a dream. Her friends were not really at her house. Xander was not hallucinating, Kori was not hysterical, and Rachel could just keep sleeping. Forever. Life was insubstantial, an illusion, the creation of her overactive imagination. Rachel sighed.

"Do you remember the breathing exercise from earlier?" she asked Kori, solving the easily fixed problem first.

Kori nodded and took deep breaths as Rachel walked to Xander's room. She flipped the light switch and the room was flooded with unnatural brightness.

Xander lay rigidly in the center of the bed, his thrashing limbs bound in the tangled sheets, his hair clinging to his forehead. Rachel glided over to him and sat gently on the edge of the bed.

"Xander," she murmured, stroking his hair as if petting a cat or soothing a young child. "You're safe. You can wake up now."

He hit her hand away.

"Mamă. Tată. Îţi pare rău. Acest lucru este vina mea!" he screamed, cowering and shrinking away from the monsters in his mind.

His voice was raw, intense, and pleading, full of desperation. Once again, Rachel had to decide if his secrets were worth his sanity.

"Will he be the okay?" Kori asked, anxiously.

"He should be," Rachel assured her. "I think I can wake him up, but he might not like what I'm going to say. Would you mind leaving the room for a few minutes? I'll probably tell you everything later, but it isn't fair for me to invade his mind with a witness."

Kori did not understand, but she trusted Rachel unconditionally, so she left.

"You're safe, Dick," Rachel reassured Xander, holding his tense body in her arms. "I know you're afraid, but you're with friends. Prieteni. Wake up, Grayson. Please. It isn't real."

He struggled against her embrace, but relaxed into it as he emerged from his nightmare. Then, he started talking, his voice flat, almost uncaring, but uncontrolled. He had been silent for too long. He could not stop the words spilling from his mouth.

"I was only eight when they died," he began. "I was there. I saw Tony Zucco threaten Haley before the show. I saw him talk to my parents. I even talked to him. I told him we didn't need his "insurance", that we weren't afraid. I saw him and I did nothing! It's my fault. I didn't know he was going to take the bolts off of the wire. How could I have known? It was supposed to be just another performance. We're acrobats, The Flying Graysons. It's what we do . . . did. Then, they fell and I heard my mom say my name. I heard their bodies . . . crunch . . . when they hit the floor. He stole them! He ripped away my entire family, my entire world! I should have died with them. Dick Grayson died. Then, Richard Grayson went to live in Bruce Wayne's mansion. Bruce tried, but it's never quite home. Now, Richard's dead and you know I'm not Xander. He's just another lie."

He looked up at her, eyes wide, innocent and lost.

"Who am I?" he asked her.

Rachel carefully brushed a strand of hair off of his forehead. Whatever else was wrong, he definitely had a fever. It explained at least some of his confusion and his slip into Romani.

She placed a hand on the side of his face and tilted his chin up so that his eyes met hers.

"It doesn't matter," she told him firmly, fiercely. "Whatever name you call yourself, whatever identity you choose, you are my friend. Referring to yourself by a different combination of letters does not lessen that."

Richard believed her. In her answer, he found the release from his mind that he'd begged the unresponsive world for. Some of the fear, the terror of rejection, the loneliness that he had carried around in the tightness in his chest, disappeared into the night air. He collapsed into Rachel, sobbing the unrestrained cries of the young, exhausted, and devastated. But no tears fell.

Rachel let her own mask fall away. She whispered to him, then, murmuring reassurances and promises that she would keep for the rest of her life. She rubbed gentle, comforting circles on his back as he nestled into her shoulder, leaning into her and letting her support the weight of his life.

Finally, his sobs receded into a quiet whimper, then silence.

Rachel held him a moment longer, their embrace timeless and undefined, before she let reality intrude again.

"You should try to get some rest," she whispered. "Do you think you'll be able to?"

Richard nodded, hesitantly.

"Okay," Rachel said. "I'm going to let Kori know that you're going to be alright. I'll be in the next room over if you need me."

She stood, pulling herself away from the intimacy of the moment, and walked towards the door until Richard's cry called her back.

"Wait!" Richard begged. "Please, don't go yet. Keep talking. You don't have to talk to me, just read a story or something. It's too quiet. Please."

Rachel walked back to the bed and placed a hand on his cheek.

"I'll let Kori in and go get a book. Okay? Can you stay here with Kori while I do that?"

After a moment, Richard nodded again. Rachel left to save Kori from her anxious pacing. When she opened the door, Kori flung herself at Rachel.

" Did you awaken him? Will he be the okay?"

Rachel hugged her friend cautiously in return.

"He seems a bit better and he should be fine when his fever drops," she reassured Kori. "You can go back in now. I have to go find a book."

Even alone in front of her bookshelf, even though she was tired, even though she had dealt with more emotions than she would admit to feeling in a lifetime, Rachel didn't cry. This night had only confirmed what she already suspected, rather than telling her anything that would really enable her to help her friend. She hoped simply being called by his own name would be enough to bring Richard back and she channeled her fear into finding the perfect book.

Finding the right book for Kori would have been easy. Still delighted by all things adorable and American, Kori could have been read a children's picture book with cute animal pictures. Richard was more challenging. Normally, he liked mysteries and adventure, but Rachel suspected that he'd had more adventure than his body or mind could handle that night. She needed something well-written and engaging, but sweet.

Those requirements and the limitations of her bookshelves only left her with two options: _The Secret Garden_ or _The Penderwicks_.

_The Secret Garden_ had the advantage of being a classic._ The Penderwicks_, however, was a warmer story and it was about a sad, wealthy boy whose friends helped him enjoy summer and follow his chosen path in life. It was a reasonable message for the occasion.

Rachel returned to Richard's room, made sure Kori was comfortable on the couch, and slid onto the bed beside Richard. She breathed in the burnt-sugar scent of the worn pages and began to read.

"For a long time after that summer, the four Penderwick sisters still talked of Arundel . . ."

Kori was the first to fall asleep, but Richard's breathing slowed and soon he drifted off as well. Rachel let her heavy eyelids fall shut and she joined her friends in the land of dreams.

* * *

**A/N:** Surprise! Robin is Red-X. Et voilà, it's a Rob/Rae story. I really did call him Xander for a plot reason. If you hate me for using the same plot twist as the show or if you liked it, please review!

(For anyone who wonders what the Romanian says: "It hurts! Make him stop. Don't leave me. No! Please." "Mom! Dad! I'm sorry. This is my fault!"

Rachel says friend.)


	9. Chapter 9: Even When the Sun's up

**Author's Note: **Bonus chapter! I should be asleep, but I'd rather write fanfiction, so here's the aftermath of Haunted, three days earlier than expected. Some details you might want to know: Rachel can cook. When she's an interdimensional half-demon, there's no reason for her to know how, but as a human, it's a life skill I believe she would have. Also, Bruce and Richard can't talk like normal people, so the subtext of their conversation is in italics. You have to love the Bats.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Teen Titans, I wouldn't be irresponsible when I chose to write instead of sleeping or doing homework. I don't own the show though. Draw your own conclusions from that. I also don't own Batman or Young Justice. For anyone who hasn't seen Young Justice, that's where I got the word aster. Aster is the opposite of disaster and is used in many ways that disaster would never be because Robin does not believe in parts of speech any more than he believes in prefixes.

* * *

**Even When the Sun's up**

Rachel could not remember the last time she'd woken up without the lingering fear of a forgotten nightmare. She snuggled sleepily into the warmth beside her.

Then she opened her eyes. Richard. He was still asleep, she saw as she propped herself up on one elbow, as was Kori. It wasn't early though. Rachel felt rested and the early afternoon sun poured through the slits in the blinds. For a moment, Rachel considered staying there, in the comfort and warmth, but she had chosen a different path. She slid carefully off the bed, trying not to disturb Richard.

She'd underestimated how light a sleeper he was.

"Rachel?" Richard mumbled drowsily. He tried to sit up, but his body protested its mistreatment the day before. "Not feelin' the aster," he moaned.

"Ssh," Rachel whispered. "Go back to sleep. If you're still awake when I get back, I'll make you breakfast."

"'kay."

Richard yawned widely and was asleep again before Rachel crept out the door.

Showers were nothing short of miraculous. Rachel ran her fingers through her short hair and let the water wash over her, washing away the darkness that had not fled with the rising sun. The warmth brought her back to life.

By the time she was done, the mirrors were almost completely fogged over. Rachel's reflection looked like a half-angel creature, her boyish stance, her pale, feminine body, and the blunt edges of her dark hair barely showing through the mist.

She stretched luxuriously and was human again.

Humming softly to herself, Rachel dressed and went to check on her friends. This time, only Kori was awake. She sat on the couch, as still as Rachel, her hands folded in her lap.

Rachel tilted her head, asking without words what was wrong, and gestured for Kori to join her in the hall. The two girls walked to Rachel's room and sat on the edge of her bed without speaking.

"He told me," Kori said, dejectedly, finally. "Richard told me his name. He said he was sorry and would not blame me if I wanted to yell at him."

Rachel searched for a brilliant insight to help her friend, but found nothing.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Did you yell at him?"

Rachel would pass no judgment either way. Any action Kori took was understandable.

"No," Kori replied. "I did not want to do the yelling. I wanted to understand. Why did he not tell us the truth? Are we not his friends?"

"We are," Rachel said. "This wasn't about us."

"It's him, isn't it?" Kori asked. "Whoever or whatever Richard's hiding from, it's really himself. He did not trust us until he had no choice."

"No," Rachel sighed. "He didn't and he still doesn't. Only time can change that. You loved him, didn't you?"

Rachel wondered if she should redirect the question, make it about friendship. She didn't though. Kori did not have to answer, but Rachel believed that she needed to be asked in order to clarify her own thoughts.

Rachel was right.

"I still do." Kori reflected, "but he is no longer my boy. I hurt when he is hurt and I will try to protect him, but he is not mine when he puts on his mask. I love him, but I do not believe that I am the in love with him."

"I'm sorry," Rachel said again.

"So am I," Kori sighed. "I have called Bee and she will be here soon. Thank you for picking up the phone when I called you in the middle of the night."

"I always will," Rachel replied and she hugged Kori, of her own free will.

The girls stood for a moment. Then, the doorbell rang and Kori left.

The house was suddenly very empty. With Kori gone and Angela at work, Rachel and Richard were all alone. She went to see if he was awake.

This time, he sat on the bed dejectedly, slumped against a mound of pillows.

"Richard?" she asked.

He ignored her.

"Kori left, didn't she?" he finally asked.

"Yes," Rachel replied simply. "She did. We'll see her at school Monday."

"I messed up," Richard laughed, but without joy. "I had a chance with her and I ruined it by lying before I even knew she existed."

"You did," Rachel said. "And you still have to tell Victor and Garfield on Monday. They'll probably yell at you. Your friends don't like being lied to."

"Thanks," Richard said bitterly. "Nice of you to stay and talk to me."

"I didn't finish," Rachel scolded. "They'll be angry, but then they'll all know the truth and they'll still be there. You've lost some of their trust, but you haven't lost them."

Richard just looked at her, straight into her eyes. Rachel wondered what he hoped to find there.

Whatever it was, he found it or didn't and he moved on.

"Will you finish the book you were reading last night? After breakfast?" he asked hopefully.

"I will," Rachel promised. "You can go get cleaned up, if you want. The bathroom's down the hall. Do cheese omelets sound good to you?"

Richard nodded, and she turned to go.

"Rachel?" Richard said, as she was almost out the door. She turned back to look at him.

"Thank you," he said.

Richard looked better after he'd washed up and eaten, but there were still tired circles under his eyes and bruises on his arms and face as he sat next to Rachel on the couch to read.

They had not read for very long before the doorbell rang.

Rachel sighed internally. She did not believe that she had ever had so many people in her house in one day before.

"Who is it?" Richard asked.

"Probably Mr. Wayne," Rachel replied. "I told Wally where you were and he probably called Mr. Wayne. You are supposed to be at a party today. Remember?"

Richard groaned and Rachel laughed.

"Relax," she said. "I'll answer it."

"Hello, Mr. Wayne," Rachel said as she opened the door. Her voice was calm, apathetic, impassive as she watched the handsome, impeccably dressed man on her doorstep.

"Miss Roth, I assume" he replied. "You're Xander's friend."

His voice was warm and charming. Rachel was almost amused that he found her worth manipulating. He'd learn the impossibility of it soon enough.

"Welcome," she said. "Richard's just inside. He's a bit bruised but otherwise seems to be unharmed."

Now, Bruce Wayne's gaze was shrewd and calculating.

"He told you?" he asked.

"He didn't need to," Rachel replied. "I knew he was lying the first time he told me his name and when I saw both of your pictures in the newspaper a few weeks later, I knew the truth. I do still have one question, though. What happened at the end of August this year when Richard dropped out of the view of the press for two weeks? I know that's what this is all about. I just don't know what happened."

"You're clearly very bright, Miss Roth, but if you pursue this, you will find yourself in over your head," he told her, his voice cold.

This man was not the billionaire, philanthropist playboy the tabloids saw. He was the brilliant man whose life had been ruined when his parents were killed in front of him as a boy, who had taken on the role that was expected of him, taken in a child like himself, and could take on the world if that was what was required of him. Rachel had much more faith in him than she did in the man who had first shown up at her door.

"I have been more than what you see," Rachel told him. "You might be surprised at what I am capable of handling."

"If you are referring to your father," Bruce began.

Rachel silenced him with a look, similar to his own infamous glare.

"I understand why you ran a background check on me, but you are never to mention him here. I am not my father."

"No," Bruce mused. "You aren't. It has been a pleasure meeting you, Miss Roth, but I would like to see Richard now."

Rachel nodded, secretly relieved that their sparring session was over, and led him into her home.

The conversation that followed and the one that took place were very different.

"Richard," Bruce said. _Hello, son._

"Bruce," Richard replied. _Hi, Dad._

"You skipped school." _I was worried about you._

"It's not like it's the first time. Besides, I think I was actually seeing things this time, not just claiming I was hallucinating to get out of class and it's not like I could call you to ask permission to leave." _I know. I'm sorry, but where were you? I was afraid. I needed you and you weren't there!_

"Injuries?" _I'm here now. Will you be okay?_

"Bruising, a few scratches, possibly a bruised rib. I should be able to attend school Monday, but I can't go to the party tonight." _I'm hurt, but I'll heal. Thank you for coming._

"It's cancelled. This took precedence. Are you ready to leave?" _Of course I came. I love you. You're my son. Are you ready to go home?_

Richard stood up and walked wearily to Bruce's side, leaning towards him slightly. Bruce shifted so that his arm was almost around Richard.

"Bye, Rae," Richard said. "Thank you. I'll see you on Monday. Maybe we can read some more at lunch."

"Goodbye, Miss Roth," Bruce said, leading his ward to the car.

The house was emptier after they left than it had been the countless times when Rachel had been alone before, but she was not alone for long.

The doorbell rang, yet again.

"Yes?" Rachel asked, opening the door to reveal Wally.

He was pale, tense, and more serious than she had ever seen him.

"Can I come in?" he asked. "We need to talk."

Rachel waved him inside.

"Are the lab results in?"

Wally nodded.

"They are," he said, " and you were right. It was a drug, but there's no way in hell that he did this to himself. Not just because Xan – oh, let's be realistic. You've known all along, haven't you? It's not just that Dick's my friend and I think he's better than that. No sane person would do this to themselves."

"What is it?" Rachel asked.

"It was originally designed for military interrogation, back when any means were acceptable. It affects the central nervous system and stimulates the part of the brain that stores memories involving fear whenever there's a lack of visual stimuli."

"So when it's dark?"

"Exactly. Dick was reliving his worst fears whenever it was dark last night," Wally concluded, "and that kid's seen some pretty terrifying stuff."

"It stopped when I turned on the light," Rachel told him. "He was still upset, but he didn't seem to be hallucinating at any point in my house. So if he didn't take it himself, how was he exposed?"

"I don't know," Wally admitted. "It normally comes in the form of a powder that is then inhaled, so it wouldn't be that hard to give him without him noticing, except that it's illegal and almost impossible to get a hold of."

"So there's a psycho with resources after Dick," Rachel surmised, "which he probably is aware of, but won't tell us about."

"Well, we'll be ready," she said simply, smiling grimly at Wally.

* * *

**A/N:** I won't say that this story is my life. It obviously isn't or I'd update more. It's a lot more fun than my life though, so please review!


	10. Chapter 10: While There's Light Left

**Author's Note:** Sorry this took so long. It was originally meant to be two chapters, but it's really divided into three short parts so there was no good place to split it. Instead, you get one really long chapter. This chapter begins the transition into the Trigon plot line. There are hints here, but it's also meant to show some Rob/Rae bonding and Robin recovering. I also threw in a scene with Raven and Batman because I really wish they'd met. I'm not sure what they'd think of each other. This chapter is dedicated to my local library and to the friend who fell asleep while I was talking to her. It wasn't meaningful in any way, shape, or form, but it was sweet and I decided to use it.

**Reviews: TheBlindRaven: **For chapter 9, thank you. (Blushes.) I try. Also, great job on picking out the line I got my chapter title from. Thank you for reviewing! For chapter 8, I'm glad you liked the Wally part. I wasn't going to include him, but Rachel needed him. I don't know specifically what confused you, so here's a recap with everything important and/or confusing.

Part 1: Before the chapter starts, Rachel and Kori dry Richard off and put him to bed. In the process, they discover that he has really a lot of scars and Kori is horrified. When the chapter starts, Rachel is comparing herself to Kori and feeling guilty about her unemotional practicality. She doesn't know what's causing Richard's behavior, so she takes blood for a drug test. She considers her options and decides to have Wally take it to S.T.A.R. Labs. She calls him and he agrees.

Part 2: Richard has a nightmare about his parents dying and . . . something else, and wakes up screaming in his native language, Romani. Kori comes to ask Rachel for help. Rachel is going to use Richard's real name, so she makes Kori wait outside. Richard has a fever and is kind of out of it, but he tells Rachel about his parents' deaths. Then, he separates different parts of his life into the names Dick, Richard, and Xander. All are metaphorically dead and Richard's feeling lost. Rachel comforts him.

Part 3: Richard can't handle being alone, so Kori comes back in and Rachel finds a book to read to them. She reads until they both fall asleep and then falls asleep herself. Hope this helps!

**Mazberrypie, **thank you. I'm glad you're enjoying it and thank you for reviewing!

**Disclaimer:** I'm holding out hope that I'll get the Teen Titans for Christmas, but it may be a miracle even beyond Santa. Right now, I don't own the Titans.

**Disclaimer for the disclaimer:** The disclaimer in no way reflects the author's views on religion or Santa. And now I'm writing about myself in the third person. That's just wonderful.

* * *

**While There's Light Left**

"We'll be ready."

Rachel heard her grim resolve echoing mockingly in her mind. She wished she could say that she was making progress, but she was still as far away from discovering what had happened to Richard as she had been the night he showed up at her house. There simply was not time to right the wrongs of the past or plan for the future. Time was passing in awkward bursts, racing days of frantic schoolwork, followed by still, quiet moments that were somehow scattered across her life, separated from the rest of the madness that was high school. Reality maintained its relentless pace and left Rachel wishing for time to catch her breath.

She hoped, at least, that by the time she needed to know, Richard would trust her enough to tell her. She wasn't certain that he would. He seemed lighter now that they called him by his own name and less like his smile was painted on the face of his mask, but she remembered what he'd said: "Now, Richard's dead."

Rachel wondered if drugged, ill, and beaten, Richard's words had been more honest than anything he said in the harsh, artificial light of the classrooms.

"Who killed you?" Rachel muttered to herself, as she spent the first hours of Winter Break researching Richard.

Outside her window, the bare trees reached for the weak winter sunlight, in stark contrast to the still white sky that frosted over the horizon. The occasional snowflake drifted over the wreaths and lights, like fleeting hope or a fragile wish.

Rachel's own part in this timeline was nearing its inevitable close, but inevitable meant irrelevant. If Richard felt he was a walking corpse, she could at least help her friend bring his murderer to justice. They still had December.

December was among Rachel's favorite times of the year. There was something beautiful about dying light. She only wished that the promised return to warmth applied to her.

Then, to Rachel's mild surprise, the phone rang.

"Hello?" Her voice was noncommittal and uninterested, but with the faint hint of a question.

"Hey, Rae," Richard replied brightly. "Are you busy?"

For a paranoid moment, Rachel wondered if Richard knew what she was doing. She looked around surreptitiously and closed her laptop before reassuring herself that she was being ridiculous.

"I answered the phone," Rachel said, as if that was an answer.

"Yes, I noticed that," Richard laughed. "Bruce has a meeting, Alfred's sick, and I'm bored, so would you please go to the library with me? I was also thinking of going to get coffee at some point, if you'd rather do that."

Richard would simply ask Rachel if she wanted to hang out, but he was fairly certain she'd say no. If he wanted to spend time with her, he first had to convince her that he was desperate, then that he really wanted to see her.

The plan seemed to be working.

"Okay," she agreed, "but are you sure you want to –"

"Rachel," Richard interrupted. "You know better than to ask questions you already know the answer to when you gain nothing by it. Think about why you shouldn't ask that question."

"You called me," Rachel practically growled. Richard could feel her glare over the phone. "If you didn't want to go to the library with me, you wouldn't have asked."

"Exactly. Now that we've established that you'd like to go with me and I do in fact want to spend time with you, can I pick you up in ten minutes?"

Rachel found herself smiling.

"Sounds perfect. See you in a bit."

"See you soon, Rae."

Rachel dashed to the living room to grab her favorite blue-purple coat and leave a note for her mother, December already forgotten.

Richard was quieter than usual on the drive to the library, but he often was when he was alone with Rachel. In part, the silence was because they communicated well without words, but there was also an uncomfortable intimacy that was renewed every time Richard let his façade slip and told Rachel more than he'd intended.

Rachel studied Richard through the veil of her eyelashes to determine whether their lack of speech was companionable or awkward. It seemed to be the former. Richard was smiling slightly and _Let it Snow_ was playing on the radio. Rachel let herself relax and enjoy the ride and company.

Both teens had intended to find and probably discuss books, but the mysteries failed to spark their interest, so they meandered through the shelves and ended up in the library's teen center.

Rachel and Richard were irresistibly drawn towards the puzzle table. Someone had managed to connect a few pieces, but the majority of the puzzle was left uncompleted.

"Shall we?" Richard asked. "500 pieces shouldn't take us too long. Besides, it's a picture of holiday cupcakes and desserts are sort of our thing."

"That is the obvious bond that defines our friendship," Rachel said, voice oozing sarcasm, as she put a piece into place.

Richard had to work to stop a wide grin from spreading across his face. He'd just learned that Rachel was even more of a puzzle addict than he was and she'd admitted to being friends with him. It was one thing to hear a heartfelt declaration of friendship when he really needed it, but an entirely different and rather surprising thing to hear her drop the word in casual conversation.

"C'mon, Rae," Richard pretended to whine. Then he let himself smile at her. "It'll be fun."

She didn't reply, but she did sit down and focus her attention on the puzzle.

With a look of triumph, Richard joined her.

They completed the puzzle as they chatted aimlessly, following the twisting paths of thought instead of the obvious flow of conversation, as was only possible with friends.

Rachel's train of thought kept taking her to an unwanted destination. It was her nature to speak her thoughts, not her feelings, so she lapsed into silence. She hoped that Richard was as accustomed to the silence as she was and wouldn't notice, but she wasn't surprised when he did.

"What's wrong, Rachel?" he asked. "Even for you, you're quiet."

She paused to arrange her thoughts and he let her, content to wait.

"I'm sorry," she said finally. "I discovered your identity, I researched your life, and I had no right to."

Richard hated Xander, at that moment and at so many others. Xander was a mistake and Richard regretted the trust he had lost. In that moment, he regretted Rachel's guilt as much as he regretted betraying Kori's trust. They were both innocents he had harmed with his deception. He had thought the line between right and wrong was so clear once, but he hadn't even noticed when he crossed it.

"Rachel, I'm glad you know the truth," he reassured her. "I shouldn't have lied to any of you, to you. I'd be lying if I claimed to be upset that you weren't angry with me, even if it's only because you already knew I was lying."

"I was angry when I found out, but by the time everyone else knew, I'd come to terms with it. That's how I knew everyone would be able to trust you again. It doesn't make what I did right."

Richard stood and pulled Rachel to her feet, so that his hand was on her shoulder and he was looking into her eyes.

"Whether or not you had the right to know my identity," Richard told her, "I'm glad you discovered it. You were there and you knew the truth when I needed someone to tell me that they understood, so thank you. When I didn't need anyone to know, you kept it a secret, even from me. You did the right thing. Xander was my mistake, Rae, not yours. Please forgive me and don't blame yourself."

Xander's brief existence had hurt them both, but they would recover. Richard held out his hand to give Rachel a puzzle piece.

"There are only two pieces left. We can both put one in on the count of three?" he suggested.

"Together." Rachel accepted the piece.

"3. . .2 . . . 1 . . ."

The two friends smiled at each other and left the completed puzzle behind, venturing farther into downtown in search of coffee.

* * *

Rachel saw the looks the other pedestrians were giving them as they walked along the festive streets. It was the same look the world always gives couples, from two toddlers holding hands to two ninety year olds on a park bench. Everyone's face softens as they walk by.

Rachel wondered if Richard noticed. She didn't think it was likely, because if he had, he probably would have released her hand instead of leading her along the crowded street.

He didn't let go until he had found a café and pulled her inside.

Rachel shivered as the heat washed over her. She wondered why she always felt colder when the cold was washed away.

"I can take your order when ever your ready," the women behind the counter said.

"Ladies first." Richard grinned at Rachel as he used her to buy more time to study the menu on the wall. Rachel raised an eyebrow at him before she ordered.

"Medium Earl Grey, decaf, room for milk and sugar," Rachel said.

"And for you, sir?" the woman asked.

"I'd like a large espresso."

Rachel didn't really care what he ordered, so she felt no particular judgment as to his choice. If it had been his normal order, she wouldn't even have noticed. It wasn't his normal order, though. He normally drank decaf coffee or hot chocolate. Caffeinated coffee was reserved for days when he had been awake most of the night at one of Bruce's parties or doing homework. Rachel studied Richard's face and found shadows under his eyes. They were dark enough to suggest that he had slept very little, but also made her wonder if he was trying not to sleep.

Rachel stored the information in her vast mental file of facts and suppositions she would only bring up if the situation demanded it and she said nothing. She would watch and she would leave him be unless he needed her.

Richard, oblivious to Rachel's thoughts for once, found a quiet table near the window.

"I know we're not in Europe," he told her, "but I hope this is close to what you imagined."

That brought Rachel out of her reverie. First he'd brought up desserts. Now, it was her old daydream from the first day of English. She'd thought she'd been the only one paying attention. Apparently, she hadn't been.

"Europe wasn't the important part of that fantasy," she said. It was the distance, the company, the escape, but instead she said, "It was the tea and this is fairly good."

Richard laughed, but Rachel was sure he heard what she hadn't said. He usually did.

Rachel smirked back at Richard, a genuine smile hidden beneath. Outside the window, it had begun to snow.

* * *

Rachel surprised herself by agreeing to hang out at Wayne Manor before returning home. She'd been there before with their other friends, but never alone and she'd already socialized more than she was accustomed to.

Rachel wondered why she agreed. She might be keeping her promise to herself to be there whenever Richard needed her. His hands were shaking from a combination of sleep deprivation and caffeine, so Rachel assumed he'd crash soon. If he was trying not to sleep, it might help to have her there. It was also possible that Rachel went with him because she wanted to. Though Rachel was frequently as antisocial and cold as she was believed to be, she'd enjoyed her day.

The two teens sat on opposite couches, Richard stretched out across the entire couch, Rachel occupying one corner of the loveseat, in one of the many vast rooms in Wayne Manor. There were bookshelves in the room, and a televisions, and video games, but they just sat, talked, and meddled with random objects in the room. Bruce had a strange collection of objects on his shelves.

This was how Rachel discovered the not particularly surprising fact that Richard could juggle and Richard discovered the downright shocking fact that Rachel could as well. It was a useless connection between them, but they both enjoyed learning it.

After a while though, they returned to their seats and chatted, lapsing into silence in between voicing miscellaneous thoughts.

"I found it," Rachel said, interrupting a long pause. "The line from _Hamlet_ you were looking for is 'I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a –'"

Richard hadn't shown any sign of listening and Rachel felt a sense of emptiness from where her friend lay.

"Dick?" she asked.

He made no response. Rachel walked over to the couch and found Richard sleeping peacefully, his breathing slow and calm.

Rachel smiled slightly to herself as she returned to the loveseat. Another girl might have been offended that her friend fell asleep in the middle of their conversation, but Rachel was glad Richard was able to relax around her. She felt trusted. It wasn't a feeling she was used to, being the quiet, smart, and cold Roth girl, but it was pleasant. She wanted him to trust her.

She felt a moment of regret, knowing the New Year was drawing near, but pushed the feeling aside. At that moment, having Richard trust her was enough. Rachel settled down to read _Hamlet_ with something close to contentment.

Rachel seemed half asleep herself, lost somewhere between the loveseat and Denmark, when she heard footsteps on the stairs. She wanted to freeze and stare at the door, but forced herself to keep turning pages.

"Ah, Miss Roth," Bruce said, entering the room. "I didn't realize you were here. Where's – "

He glanced around the room until his gaze landed on Richard. His face softened as it only did when he regarded his ward. Rachel thought his look held a touch of relief.

"He almost looks like he'll be alright," Rachel sighed.

Bruce gave her a sharp look. He never knew what Rachel knew and, though he did like that about her, he also found it disconcerting.

"What did he tell you?"

"As always, absolutely nothing," Rachel replied. "He seemed to want confirmation of our friendship and he's probably been having nightmares recently, bad enough to convince him he'd be better off not sleeping, but I don't know anything definite."

Bruce sat down on a chair near his sleeping ward.

"As always, other than what you wish he or I would just tell you, that's pretty much it," Bruce admitted. "Do you want me to drive you home?"

Rachel half-wondered why Bruce bothered being kind to her. Obviously, it was mainly because Richard liked her, but she suspected it was partially because he viewed her as an equal. Rachel wondered what the paparazzi or Bruce's entourage of fawning sycophants would make of that. Then again, they'd probably assume he pitied her, just as they'd always assumed Richard was a charity case. Fools.

"I can ask Bee to give me a ride if you don't want to leave him," Rachel offered, her eyes on her sleeping friend.

"When did he fall asleep?" Bruce asked, an apparent non sequitur.

Remembering the complex silent communication she had witnessed between Bruce and Richard, Rachel trusted that there would be a point eventually.

"Approximately fifteen minutes ago," she replied.

Bruce checked his watch.

"He should be fine for at least another forty minutes," he said, standing up. "

Rachel wondered if it was sweet or tragic that Bruce knew exactly how long Richard could sleep before he woke up or nightmares haunted his rest. She wondered how many nights Richard had woken up screaming and how often Bruce had been there. The answer belonged only to Bruce and Richard, but Rachel wished that others knew it. Richard was never simply a charity case.

"Thank you, then," was the only thought Rachel gave voice to.

The local high school's antisocial bookworm and the city's white knight walked out of Wayne Manor and into the cold evening air, united by silence and the boy sleeping on the couch upstairs. Snow fell softly around them, glowing pure and white as the sun began to set.

* * *

**A/N:** I sound a little needy asking for reviews all of the time, don't I? Well, feel free to review and complain about it. :)


	11. Chapter 11: One Last Dance

**Author's Note: **I've had this ready for a while, but for reasons you will discover, I didn't want to publish this until the next chapter was finished. We're finally into the Trigon story arc! Because this focuses on Rachel's problems instead of Richard's, this chapter is a little odd. Raven's world is not normal, if you think about it. She's a superhero, has normal teenage moments, and underneath all of that, she knows she's going to destroy the world. This chapter switches back and forth between teenage moments and the end of the world. Rachel has to be really good at compartmentalizing. Also, the conversation between Rachel and Garfield about New Years resolutions is from real life. I don't really want to dedicate this to the person I had that conversation with, but that part is sort of dedicated at him. So there. Happy holidays!

**Reviews: Rider of the Winds**, thank you! Fangirl squealing was very much appreciated. Actually, the chapter after this one exists in large part because of your review. I was becoming reacquainted with writer's block and no one had reviewed for a bit. I blame the summary. If you have any tips for improving it, I'd appreciate it. I'm really glad you liked the Starfire scene. That was extremely challenging to write, for some reason and I am delighted that you found it amusing. As for Bruce and Richard's relationship, I'm happy you see my point. I love the Batfamily (I also adore writing ordinary words with Bat in front of them to make them cool), but they're a little messed up. I think Raven would be able to see that. I hope you keep reading!

**TheBlindRaven**, glad that's cleared up then. Also, genius! I am so using that idea when the weather in the story permits. Bruce was actually the one who took Richard (allegedly to fish. I think Bruce just wanted to give Richard a break) and I can think of several ways to have them go again and include Rachel. Thank you!

**Kamina0495,** thanks!

**Disclaimer:** I own a lovely pair of gloves that look like Raven's. I made them myself despite my inability to sew and they look snazzy with the jacket I got for Christmas. They also are the only Teen Titans related thing I own. The actual Teen Titans still don't belong to me.

* * *

**One Last Dance**

Rachel never wanted to leave her room. The rest of the world was surreal, with glaring artificial lighting everywhere. Her room was currently lit only by the distant light in the kitchen that barely reached her door and the Christmas lights that her mom hadn't put away yet, shining through the window. Rachel lay on her bed, her heartbeat aligned to the ticking clock, as she tried to meditate.

"Four more hours," she whispered. "Just four more hours and it will be over."

Rachel winced as her mother switched on the overhead light.

"Angela!" Rachel protested. "Uhn! I just want this day to be over! I've changed my mind. I should stay away. Dick never really expected me to agree to go anyways."

Angela and Rachel had established an easy coexistence in their home, but it had been a long time since Angela knew the right words to reassure her daughter.

"You told Dick you would attend Bruce's New Year's Eve party and Kori even helped you choose a dress so that the two of you would complement each other. You have to go," Angela reasoned, using Rachel's friends, the only sure weapon against her.

"What if it's tonight?" Rachel argued. "Tonight could be the end of Rachel Roth and I won't let my friends get caught in the crossfire."

"You have the love of your friends, Rachel. Even though I know what will come and they do not, I know that they want you with them tonight." Angela paused. "You will go."

"Shouldn't you be forbidding me to party," Rachel complained, dressing obediently. "No, it's too late and mostly unchaperoned?"

Angela laughed, somewhat taken aback.

"Right," she said. "If Dick invites you all alone somewhere and makes a move on you, you know what to do?"

"Kick and run?" Rachel smirked at her pacifist mother.

"Kiss him back, Rae."

Angela smiled.

"I'll leave you to your preparations," Angela said, turning on some music and closing the door behind her.

"Alex C.'s _Angel of Darkness_," Rachel muttered. "That's just perfect."

Preparations. Rachel needed to focus. This wasn't meant to be fun; she was fulfilling a duty. Rachel was the sort of girl who never wore heels and didn't even wear lip gloss. Preparations meant putting on her dress, combing her hair and brushing her teeth. It wouldn't take very long. It was just as well. There was an excellent chance that she wasn't going to be Rachel for very much longer.

She was beginning to see aspects of her identity swirling around her. There was the studious girl who always did her homework and got good grades. There was the courageous girl who would always defend a friend because she was not afraid of the consequences. There was the sarcastic but happy girl who secretly loved her friends and family.

There was also the wise girl who had seen too much to play the good little girl role she'd chosen and wondered if she was really broken enough to act the part she'd been given. She'd know soon. All masks were coming off.

Rachel forced her thoughts away as she struggled to zip her dress. She assumed a man designed it. It was a male trait to create women's attire that required another's help to wear. Rachel was beginning to notice that contempt was overwhelming her. Considering the date, that wasn't a good sign.

That being said, she did like the dress well enough. It was a sleek midnight blue patterned subtly with silver sparkles. She wore matching ballet flats with a strap around her ankle in case she had to run. On another day, Rachel would have wondered if this was what beautiful looked like. She would never shine as brightly as Kori, but she had a sort of glow that was alluring even if some found it unsettling. Rachel was too used to herself to know if she was beautiful. Instead, she hoped she'd make it through the night.

"Three and a half more hours," Rachel whispered, the countdown until midnight becoming her mantra.

Rachel found what courage still lurked in the depths of her mind and left her room. She still had three and a half more hours.

"You look beautiful, Rae," Angela told her daughter, her calm masking the need to weep.

"Am I?" Rachel asked. "I look in the mirror and I see him. You're always so perfect. Why did I have to be your only mistake?"

"Trigon Roth was a mistake, Rachel. You are a blessing, the one good thing that came out it," Angela tried to convince her daughter. She had tried and failed to convince her for her entire life.

Rachel turned away and Angela felt hopelessness seeping into the room.

"It's too late mom," Rachel said, avoiding her mother's eyes. "You married a career criminal psychopath you met in a cult. Now, we're going to pay the price. It's time."

She turned to leave.

"Wait," Angela said, pulling a bag from the shelf beside her. "I have something for you."

Rachel took the bag cautiously. It matched the silver in her dress. It all seemed too well planned to be innocuous.

Inside the bag, there were vials of some powder, picklocks, a bus pass, and the latest Wayne Enterprises mini-computer that projected the screen onto the air.

"It's untraceable?" Rachel asked.

"Completely," Angela replied. "And the vials are antidotes. You should probably take a dose now, just in case."

Rachel nodded and inhaled the contents of one vial. It burned her nose and for a moment she could not breathe, but the feeling quickly went away.

"Thank you," she said.

"I wanted you to be ready," Angela replied, "whatever happens."

She had prepared Rachel to run, return, or accept her destiny. Rachel preferred all of those options to the one she had prepared for. She was alright with the vials she had prepared, but the knife in the sheath on her thigh burned coldly on the edge of her awareness.

Rachel embraced her mother.

"I may still return home," she said. "Happy New Year."

The doorbell rang, slicing cleanly through the moment.

Without another word, Rachel walked out into the darkness and slid into the back of the Wayne limo.

The ballroom at the city's most elite hotel was jarringly dissimilar to the still winter air outside. When Richard ran up to welcome Rachel, she stared politely through him. He seemed too alive to be real.

"Rae?" he asked.

Rachel forced herself to concentrate. Her friends deserved, if not the truth, at least an animated façade.

"Sorry, Dick," Rachel said. "I wasn't expecting quite this many people. It just took a minute to adjust. Can we start over?"

Richard knew that look, eyes focused on distance beyond the room. He'd worn it several times himself.

"What's wrong, Rae?" he asked.

"I just don't like parties," Rachel replied, trying to sound like her usual apathetic self.

"It's more than that," Richard said. "I can tell. We have a bond, remember. You've seen inside my mind. Please, Rae, let me inside yours."

"You know me better than anyone," Rachel told him. "You should know that there are places inside my mind you can't go, that no one should ever go."

"I'm willing to try," he offered.

"Trust me," Rachel replied. "You can't. Please, can we just start over?"

He knew she was desperately concealing something, but he wouldn't call her on it. He knew the simple act of showing up for the party was more than she wanted to do.

"Of course," he replied plastering a broad smile on his face. "Welcome, Rae! You look beautiful. I'm glad you decided to come."

"You don't look so bad yourself." Rachel smiled, decidedly not studying her handsome friend too closely. "Thanks for convincing me to come."

"That's my girl," Richard laughed. "Now let's go be cheerful with the others."

"This party is pointless and loud. Do I have to be here?" Rachel responded.

"I know. I'm sorry and yes, you do."

Richard slipped his arm around Rachel's and pulled her through the crowd to where Victor, Kori, and Garfield stood.

"Rachel!" Kori squealed, embracing Rachel in a bone-crushing hug. "You look wonderful! Is not this party glorious?"

"Er . . . Hi Kori, thanks, so do you, and I suppose so?" Rachel replied.

Kori looked radiant and joyful in her deep rose-colored gown and gloves, but both of the boys beside her looked torn between not being comfortable in tuxedos and being excited to be at Bruce Wayne's party.

"Happy almost New Year, Rae," Victor said.

"Yeah," Garfield joined in. "Do you make New Year's resolutions? 'Cause you could make one to be less sarcastic and passive-aggressive."

Rachel was almost grateful to her most aggravating friend. She was completely in the moment again.

"I don't make New Year's resolutions," she replied flatly, for once choosing to spare him.

"Well I want to this year. Will you give me a suggestion?" Garfield asked eagerly.

"No," Rachel said.

"Well why not?" Garfield asked.

Rachel acquiesced to the inevitable. She couldn't be nice to Garfield for a prolonged period of time.

"Because I have several possible ideas," Rachel replied.

Victor and Richard smirked. It seemed like a polite response, but Garfield had been thoroughly insulted. Not that he noticed.

"You're confusing," he told Rachel.

She mentally face-palmed.

Richard thought it would be best to separate the two before Rachel decided to explain what she meant.

"Do you want to dance?" he asked.

He'd said the first thing that popped into his mind and was completely unprepared for the uncomprehending look Rachel gave him.

"I like thi-this song," Richard muttered, stuttering as he only did when extremely nervous.

Rachel knew she should say no, but she didn't want to. She was running out of time.

"Will you teach me this dancing, Dick?" Kori asked before Rachel could reply. Rachel intended to step aside and allow her friend the dance, but Victor intervened.

"I'll teach you," he volunteered. "Gar probably needs a lesson as well. We can let Dick and Rachel have this dance, since they both know how."

Richard raised an eyebrow at Rachel.

"You can dance?" he inquired.

"It's a social necessity," Rachel replied, quoting some half-forgotten dance instructor Richard had never met.

"Alright, then," he said and led her onto the dance floor.

They started off awkwardly at first, holding themselves stiffly and staying far apart, not sure how close they were allowed to be. Then Richard spun Rachel and she returned to his arms, a little closer this time. She leaned in slightly and he pulled her a little closer until they were leaning into each other. By the end of the song, it was the timeless dance of intertwined souls rather than strangers.

"I'm glad you came," Richard murmured, leaning down slightly to whisper into Rachel's ear.

She looked up at him, intending to respond in kind.

Then, the fire alarm went off and the screaming began.

* * *

**A/N:** See what I mean? I'll put the next chapter up soon. This is a new plot line, so constructive reviews would really help.


	12. Chapter 12: Harbinger in Fire

**Author's Note:** Here's part two of my Birthmark spinoff. I stole large amounts of the dialogue from this episode. One thing I did find fascinating about this episode is that Robin breaks Slade's neck. If Slade wasn't undead, Robin would have killed him in an attempt to protect Raven. I decided to read into that. I love the Rob/Rae in this episode and Raven really should have unfrozen someone else if the Rob/Rae wasn't intentional. I also should mention that I know that I called Rachel "Raven" in this chapter.

**Disclaimer:** It's been about two hours since I last updated and I spent that time rewatching _Sherlock_ not gaining ownership of the Teen Titans.

**Warning:** The whole Trigon plot seemed a little out-of-place in a kids' show and I stayed pretty true to that.

* * *

**Harbinger in Fire**

Richard and Rachel saw their friends running to a different exit, but were unable to reach them. There was someone else coming towards them, but Rachel could not tell who through the smoke that darkened the room. It didn't really matter who it was. Rachel knew who sent him.

Richard's eyes widened when he saw the approaching figure and he grabbed Rachel's arm and raced towards an exit as flames ate the banisters.

"No," he gasped.

"It's been far too long," the man said.

"I don't know where you've been," Richard snarled, hands clenching into fists, "but I'm still ready."

Rachel tried to make out the man's face, to at least attain a sense of closure about Richard's problems before facing her own, but saw only a metal mask with a symbol like an orange 'S' on it.

"That's precious, Richard, or are you still calling yourself Xander," the man laughed, "but I'm not here for you."

"Be ready," Richard whispered to Rachel. "We'll fight on my signal."

Rachel shifted slightly into a ready stance.

"Go!" Richard yelled, only to be thrown across the foyer by the masked man. He turned his attention back to Rachel.

"I have a message to deliver," he said.

"This isn't happening," she muttered, covering her ears, trying to run away in reality and in her mind. Denial was lovely this time of year.

"But Raven," the man said, his smooth voice almost a purr, "your glorious destiny awaits and you know you can't prevent it. You've known this day would come all your life. Do you really think you can run and wish it all away? Today is the day it begins."

Rachel, not Raven, cowered against the wall as flames burned the room above her. It wasn't real. Reality wasn't real. She wouldn't be Raven. She couldn't accept this.

The man laughed.

"No matter where you run, no matter where you try to hide, no matter how you squirm, there is nothing you can do to stop it," he said.

Richard was slumped against a doorway that had begun to burn. Rachel watched and something inside of her broke.

She screamed as she leaped past the masked man and lashed out with her foot, smashing through the burning door.

"Rachel?" Richard murmured as she pulled him to his feet and out into the crisp night air. They stood, panting in the middle of the street, indecisive. They knew they needed to run, but not where to run to.

"You can't escape," the masked man said, chasing them into the darkness.

Richard threw himself in front of Rachel.

"Rachel, run," he ordered.

This wasn't the time to be a feminist. Rachel fled without hesitation.

Richard attacked without hesitation. He'd been raised to be a good little boy and not kill, but he ignored those lessons now. Now, he fought not only to save Rachel but to end the man in front of him.

He didn't win. The masked man slammed him into a slab of marble that had fallen from the burning building, and it toppled onto him. Richard was crushed beneath its weight.

The masked man quickly caught up with Rachel, pursuing her relentlessly.

"What you have concealed, you will become," he said. "The sun is going to set for the last time on your world and you will be the cause. You cannot resist who you are."

"I can try," Rachel snarled. The quiet girl she'd been was gone. She embraced the rage and fire burning inside of her and threw a vial of her own creation onto the ground between them. The masked man leapt back as a wall of flame rose between them.

"Richard," Rachel yelled frantically, running back to her fallen friend.

He had managed to lift the marble block off of himself, but he was far from uninjured. When she helped him up, she winced as he grunted in pain. She draped one of his arms over her shoulders and placed and hand on his chest as she helped him stand. Rachel felt some emotion twist inside the center of her being. She couldn't tell if it was concern or gratitude.

It didn't matter. Whatever she felt, they needed to hide. Rachel and Richard ran awkwardly, strange participants in a four-legged, one-bodied race.

The nearest open building was a gothic church with many pointed spires piercing the sky and tall windows of colored glass. Rachel found their shelter somewhat ironic. She'd heard rumor that she was the devil's daughter and here she was hiding in a place of worship. Souls had gathered here searching for a higher purpose and she hid to avoid her higher purpose.

Perhaps it was her lower purpose. Rachel never understood why the direction of her purpose was relevant. What was important was that she had not chosen her destiny.

She hadn't meant to involve Richard in it either.

He'd come as far as he could go and collapsed in front of the pulpit. He gasped as he fell, unable to breathe deeply. Richard wasn't sure how much of it was smoke inhalation and how much was from being crushed. He'd recover, though, and Rachel was safe. She cradled him in her arms, softening the fall.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to her injured friend, supporting him in her arms while he supported her with his presence. "I shouldn't have dragged you into this, even if you were already part way in. But you're in it now, and you deserve to know. I need to tell you.

"When I was born, my mother was threatened. She was told that on this day, New Years of my seventeenth year, something was going to happen, something very bad. That- that's why I didn't want to come to the dance, but just because you don't celebrate doesn't mean it isn't New Years."

With considerable effort, Richard sat up, hand pressed against his head as if to physically force focus into it.

"The symbol," Richard rasped, struggling to breathe, "the one on his mask, what does it mean?"

Rachel almost decided to answer. Even though he was injured and lay semi-conscious in her arms for the beginning of her explanation, having Richard there made her situation somewhat bearable. She was terrified of discovering that she was really a monster, but that fear was nothing to her fear of having to fight her destiny alone.

She might have told him if the masked man hadn't flung the doors wide open and set fire to the sanctuary.

Richard was flung back into a pillar and lay on the ground, unmoving.

"It's just you and me now," the masked man said. "You're making this much harder than it needs to be. The message will be delivered."

Thoughts darted in and out of Rachel's mind and panic won. She turned and fled.

The streets were still hers through birthright. She knew every alleyway and fire escape in her town. If she hadn't been fleeing a man sent by her father, she would have escaped. No one could catch her; no criminal would be foolish enough to try.

The masked man wasn't merely a criminal. He was a fellow street wraith and he was faster than she was. Rachel climbed desperately up a fire escape, but she knew she was trapped. Only some persistent hope of survival made her keep climbing.

Escape was a foolish, fleeting hope.

"Escape isn't an option," the masked man told her. "You have no choice."

"No!" Rachel screamed at the world rather than the man, though it was him that she attacked. She slipped her knife out of its sheath and struck out at him with all of her strength and training.

She was still a young women and he was large and strong. She slashed at him with her knife, but he caught her arm.

Rachel cried out against her will as she struggled against his firm grip. His hand easily, almost lazily encircled her arm. Then he began to squeeze his hand shut and she felt her bones grind inside her skin. The knife clattered on the cement at their feet.

The man met her eyes as he retrieved the knife. He stared into the depths of her being, his mask expressionless, as he carved a pattern of 'S's into the almost faded scars on her soft, pale arms.

Time was something arbitrary, imposed by life. Rachel wasn't living so moons were free to rise and set. Civilizations fell in fire and the symbols on Rachel's arms bled dark and bright and red.

Rachel felt the pain of the world dying around her and only cold and fire from the knife point in her arms. She moaned, fighting to exist beyond the pain.

The masked man draped a coat over Rachel's cuts and released her. She collapsed forward. There was no Rachel to order her knees not to bend. She hung for a moment, suspended in air, before time began again.

"Twenty days," the masked man said. "Oh, and happy New Year."

With that, he was gone.

Rachel was falling until, suddenly, she wasn't falling anymore.

She leaned into Richard's arms as he helped her sit up and looked up to meet his eyes. He smiled at her with warmth and reassurance.

"Let's go home," he said, meeting her gaze.

It was sweet, really, that Richard believed this was the end. Rachel sighed.

"First," she replied, "let's find our friends."

* * *

"You are unharmed!" Kori exclaimed in relief.

"I just wish we knew what that man wanted with Rachel," Victor said, still shaken by the severely edited story Richard and Rachel had told him.

"We will solve this mystery another time," Kori said. "Please, Rachel. We understand why you did not wish to celebrate, but we hope that you might reconsider."

"You might not like parties," Garfield said, "but we're still happy it's New Year and that you're our friend. It's worth celebrating."

Rachel's friends held their breath as they waited for her to respond to her usually annoying friend.

Rachel knew that her opinion of parties remained unchanged, but she also felt safe and normal standing in the midst of her friends.

"We're going to need ice cream," she said.

Kori clapped.

"Glorious!" she said. "Mr. Wayne has said that we may celebrate at the manor. I will find the Alfred!"

"Kori," Victor yelled, chasing after her, "Alfred is his name. He's the butler, not the Alfred."

Garfield simply laughed and ran after them.

Richard caught Rachel's arm as she prepared to follow.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

"I will be," Rachel lied gratefully.

"What you told me," Richard began again, "that something bad was supposed to happen, I guess it did. I'm sorry I couldn't stop it."

Waves of regret washed the ground out from under Rachel's feet as she watched her friend's shoulder's slump, guilt gnawing away at him. She'd been permitted over seventeen years of this life and she only now, with twenty days left, did she have something to lose.

It hadn't mattered when there were years of hope left, then months. She could pretend to study and plan for her future. Now, there were only a few weeks until her birthright forced itself on her life and only now did Rachel regret the life she had chosen for herself. She'd been good, she'd learned everything she could, and she was going to be applying her knowledge far too soon. If she had chosen a different path, maybe she could have been Kori instead of Rachel. She'd have admitted to loving Richard and she wouldn't have been able to fulfill her destiny.

Instead, Rachel chose to become the brilliant bookworm, cold and distant from the lesser beings that surrounded her. It was safer for them if she was isolated when the time came, but she had failed. She had friends. Richard, Kori, Garfield, Victor, Jinx, or Wally could be hurt because of her. Rachel wished herself out of the street on which Richard stood and out of her friends' lives where she could do no harm.

Nothing happened.

Rachel forced herself to forget and simply treasure the moment. The time had not come yet. Until it did, she would make her friends as happy as she could.

"No one could," she said, trying to reassure him that, whatever his experiences with the masked man, none of her problems were his fault.

"We will find out why he did what he did and why he was after you," Richard promised, "but right now, you're safe."

He took a step closer to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. He was so close. Rachel breathed in and he smelled like safety, but she still couldn't tell him everything. She met his reassuring eyes, desperately wishing she could look away.

"You're here with friends," he assured her. "It's over."

Richard turned away from her as the Wayne limo pulled up to the curb with Kori, Garfield, and Victor inside.

Rachel pushed her sleeve back and watched as blood seeped from an S and dripped onto her palm.

Richard did not understand how incredibly wrong he was. This attack was not the end; its purpose was to announce the beginning. Twenty days and counting.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm not sure whether I should go straight into more Trigon scenes or if I should go all season 4 on you and have a lighter chapter. Opinions? Please review!


	13. Chapter 13: Demons Without and Within

**Author's Note:** The second half of this is actually important to the plot, so this isn't as much of a filler chapter as it might have been. The beginning is based on the opening of Nevermore in which Raven goes all demony at a fairly minor villain. Talking back to bad teachers was my real-world equivalent. It turned out a little more homicidal than I'd intended. I didn't even include the teacher who told me that I didn't feel (while there were a series of medical emergencies in my family, may I add), the one who wouldn't let us say can't and considered sarcasm icky, the one who refused to let us follow the instructions the teacher left, the one who went off on random tangents, or the one who said we'd all fail in life. This is sort of the "Wow, I didn't realize I was still angry about that" chapter. Oops. It fits Raven, though. I think she'd have difficulty going passively about her normal life when she was running out of time.

**Reviews:** **TheBlindRaven **as always, thank you for reviewing. Duly noted about the title. It was meant to be symbolic of the relationship between Raven and Robin, but I'm not that attached to it. Thinking of a replacement title may take time though. As for the questions, refer to the scene where Richard first sees the masked man. They recognize each other. I don't know if you've noticed, but I find it amusing to use the same plots as the television series, but rearrange them to fit my story. Enough said. Nice catch on the fading scars. It isn't really important so I may not bring it up again, but yes. Rachel's had 'S's carved into her arms before.

**Disclaimer:** I claim full ownership of the annoyance with incompetent adults, but that's all I own. The Titans don't belong to me and neither do the adults.

* * *

**Demons Without and Within**

Calculus on a good day was dull though a bit relaxing when compared with the end of the world. Calculus on a bad day was infuriatingly frustrating, but nothing Rachel couldn't handle. Calculus with only fifteen days of normalcy left and a substitute teacher who didn't understand honors students or high school was torture.

Rachel could usually manage some sympathy for subs. After all, they weren't in their own class. They had to face new situations and new people every day. Rachel wasn't sure that she could do it.

Rachel felt no kindness towards this sub. Actually, she was plotting ways to either get her fired or maim her. That should have made Rachel a terrible person, but it wasn't like she was going to carry out any of her ideas. Simply knowing that she could make the substitute stop talking forever in less than ten seconds was a great stress reliever.

"Calculus may not seem important in everyday life," the substitute rambled on, "but school is about more than the practical uses of subjects. It teaches people how to think. As teenagers, that's not something you're good at. You tend to do stupid things. It's because your brains haven't developed yet. That's why you have to pay attention. You might think you can slack off, but none of you are so smart that you don't need this lesson. I haven't taught any geniuses yet."

Idiot. Rachel was a genius – as long as genius was defined as having an IQ over 160 – thank you so very much for asking. She was relatively confident that Richard was as well and if Victor wasn't, he was at least close.

Not that it always showed, because, being teenagers, they of course did stupid things all the time. Take for example, how Rachel was teaching half of her chemistry class during the class period in addition to the students she sometimes helped at lunch because the teacher wouldn't answer questions. That was an extremely stupid decision. If Rachel was as wise as the adults, she'd refuse to help even if it actually was her job. Clearly, Rachel wasn't bitter.

Adults were the wise ones, the analytical ones. The wonderful skills of adults were brilliantly demonstrated by the substitute teacher's keen observation of her class. She could see Rachel sitting near the front, reaching number twenty-eight on her list of how to kill the teacher. She, with her wonderful, developed brain, should have been able to see that Rachel was fuming, having been a bit on edge even before being provoked with insults and boredom.

"If students simply valued school," the oblivious substitute continued, "instead of dating and video games, we'd be looking at a brighter future. The best times have past, I'm afraid, and it'll only get –"

Rachel had fifteen days left and this was how she was spending them. Her classmates tried her patience at the best of times. This was more than she was willing to swallow.

"How dare you?" Rachel interrupted.

Rachel decided against opening up skulls so that they could compare brains, but a battle of wits was a reasonable alternative. Opinionated substitute teacher, meet the girl who's going to destroy the world. Rage was an addictive rush to Rachel. She tried not to give in often, but she loved the shocked look on people's faces when quiet, studious Rachel finally spoke. She grew tall inside of her mind, dark tendrils of power swirling around her.

She leaned forward slightly in her chair, smirking.

"What?" the teacher screeched.

"I said 'how dare you'," Rachel replied. "Why? Are you afraid to answer? It's a genuine question. How dare you stand in front of us and tell us that all we care about is sex and television? What gives you the right? We're IB students. We've dedicated most of our lives to schoolwork, and the rest of our time primarily to sports, art, and community service. Still you presume to stand in front of us and tell us we don't care, call us stupid, blame us for the state of the country your generation currently controls."

"I'm the teacher," the substitute spluttered. "You can't speak to me like that."

"Can't I?" Rachel's smile was feral and predatory. Her eyes gleamed. "I believe I am. You know more calculus than I do and occupy a position of power. That is all. That is the sum of the respect I owe you and earned you the forty minutes I remained silent. You used up your time and my patience. Answer the question."

The substitute teacher was not a wise person and not particularly good with young adults, but she was not an inherently bad person. She took a step back, taken aback by being verbally attacked by one of her students. Suppressed tears stung her eyes.

Rachel saw and in that moment she wanted to make her cry. Rachel used to cry when she was younger, around the time she'd stopped speaking out. A switch inside her mind would flip and she'd sob all of the overflowing thoughts she wouldn't say. It was someone else's turn.

Richard saw and he could understand Rachel's issues with adults misusing power. It was only five days since he was catching her as she fell from the hands of an adult who'd hurt her. He couldn't let her continue, though. She was scaring the class and she was better than that. Besides, Richard knew that she would do the same for him before he lost himself. She already had, once.

"Rachel," he commanded, "stop."

To the class's surprise and relief, she did. Rachel didn't move, but something in the way she held herself changed. She seemed to shrink, and she ducked her head contritely, eyes wide and ashamed.

Richard walked to the teacher.

"It's okay," he reassured her. "You're all right."

"Rachel?" Victor asked.

She turned towards him, eyes flashing.

Then, the bell rang and she disappeared into the crowded hallway.

"What's her deal?" Victor asked Richard.

Richard shook his head.

"This never happened," he replied. "Let's go to lunch."

* * *

Rachel joined her friends at lunch as if nothing had happened.

"Hey, Rae," Richard said, playing along as he'd known he would.

"You must try this strange green substance," Kori said, sliding over so that Rachel could sit next to her. "It is the frosting of mint and it is delightful with mustard."

Garfield mimed vomiting into his lunch bag. Rachel almost laughed from the pure relief of having no one confront her about what had just happened. Unfortunately, that would only alarm everyone more and Victor was still watching her somewhat warily.

"I appreciate the thought," Rachel replied. "I'm content with my herbal tea, though."

"Is that all you're eating?" Victor asked, suddenly reverting to the role of concerned older brother.

Rachel rolled her eyes and pulled a sandwich out of her bag, secretly touched that he cared.

Victor nodded, reassured.

None of them noticed the internal debate Richard was having.

Richard was making a logical decision. It could mean saving Rachel's life and everyone would believe his story, so he wouldn't lose his friends' trust any more than he already had. On the other hand, going through with his plan would create stalker and paranoia red flags in his own mind. It also meant betraying Rachel's trust a little.

As was so often the case, paranoia won.

"I have something for all of you," Richard told his friends, reaching into his backpack. "I was going to give you all your Christmas presents at the New Years party, but because of the fire I never got the chance."

He passed each of them an elegantly wrapped box.

"Merry Christmas, everyone," he said.

"Dude!" Garfield and Victor exclaimed tearing theirs open. "The new Ninjas vs. Mummies game! That just came out!"

Kori opened hers carefully, but recognized her present with the same enthusiasm as the others.

"Thank you, Dick," she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. "It is beautiful! Will you help me put it on?"

"Of course."

Richard smiled at her and fastened the rose-colored starburst pendant around her neck.

Rachel still hadn't opened hers. She was studying the wrapping paper, almost suspiciously.

Richard sighed mentally. Of course Rachel had to be the one to question five-days-after-New-Years-Christmas-presents.

"Problem, Rae?" he asked.

"You didn't have to get us anything," she replied, but she gave him a probing stare.

Richard was glad she didn't go for a direct approach. He could blow off this statement more easily than any of her unasked questions.

"Allow me to enjoy one of the few benefits of being the orphan ward of a billionaire,' Richard said. "I'm allowed to give my friends Christmas presents. Just open it."

Rachel did, hesitantly.

Inside the box was a pendant with a midnight-blue stone raven on a silver circle.

Rachel looked up at Richard and he stared back uncertainly. To his relief, she was the one to end the silence.

"It is beautiful," she said. "Thank you. Will you do the clasp for me?"

She handed him the necklace and inclined her head, thanking him for his friendship as well as the necklace.

"Of course," Richard replied, fastening the silver chain and the wireless tracker he'd attached to it around his friend's neck.

Richard knew that Rachel, having accepted the gift, would wear it often, especially if she was worried or afraid. She'd need the reminder that her friends existed in another part of the world. Mission track Rachel was accomplished.

Richard's hands were steady as he did the clasp, but inside he was shaking. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't risk Rachel being taken like he was. He couldn't sit by knowing that somewhere she was being tortured, while no one else knew if she'd been abducted or just finally had enough and left. No one would be surprised if she just left. She'd always been distant and her latest outburst confirmed her isolation.

At least she wasn't adopted. Then, there would be no reason for anyone to believe her departure wasn't voluntary.

No, Rachel would not be left alone, wondering if anyone knew or cared what had become of her. No one would manipulate her mind, playing with her fragile sense of identity like it was a new toy, having her walk the knife's edge of morality and of sanity. Richard would be there to prevent it.

* * *

**A/N: **I don't really have anything else to say. Reviews are awesome and I'll update when I can.


	14. Chapter 14: Messages in the Night

**Author's Note:** Er. I still exist. Surprise! (Ducks as someone throws a virtual shoe.) I'm really sorry for disappearing. Unfortunately, my schedule's insane until summer, so I'll still be updating sporadically. I hope this fairly long and plot-heavy update makes up for it. I know Richard's a little OOC on the phone with Rachel, but it's intentional. He tends to say more than he means to with her. Otherwise, I think it's self-explanatory.

**Reviews:** Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, or followed this story! I don't have a lot of time right now, so I'm not going to reply to everyone, but you're all wonderful. Thank you. Especially thank you for catching typos. I try to find them all, but I don't always succeed. Also, I am going to take some of your suggestions, I just haven't done it yet.

**Disclaimer: **Yeah right. (By which, I mean of course that I don't own the Titans and I stole a fair bit of dialogue from the show.)

* * *

**Messages in the Night**

"Any luck finding it?" Richard asked Kori as she joined him, Victor, and Garfield in the Wayne Manor library.

"There is no mention of it entered on the net," Kori replied solemnly.

Richard bit back a growl of frustration. They were all trying to find any mention of the 'S' symbol, anywhere, any hint to what it might mean for Rachel, but they'd found nothing. Richard had hoped to discover its meaning, but he felt like time was running out. Rachel would be gone forever any second.

He strode off in an unnecessary direction, resuming his pacing. He would find the symbol before Rachel shared his fate.

"What about the security tapes?" Richard asked Garfield.

"There's still nothing there," Garfield replied. "Dude, the tape's the same as it was last time."

"Rewind," Richard ordered. "Play it again. There has to be something there."

"Masked man kicks butt take 304," Garfield yawned, obeying.

Richard didn't even watch it. He paused his pacing for a moment as if to watch, but quickly turned away again.

"Victor?" he asked. "Anything to report?"

"I've tried every site I could think of," Victor replied. "It isn't there."

Richard looked down, arms crossed as he fought to find optimism.

"This symbol is the key," he said. "We will find out what it means."

He turned away, unable to remain still, picked up his cell phone, and dialed Rachel's number.

"Dick?" a worried voice asked.

"Hey, Rae," he replied, voice intentionally light. "Have you found anything new about the symbol or the masked man?"

"Nothing new," she answered, grateful that she didn't have to lie. Rachel had found nothing new and neither would Richard.

There was a long silence as Richard resumed his pacing and Rachel waited.

"And you?" Rachel asked, as if she didn't already know. "Have you found anything new?"

Richard had forgotten he was still on the phone.

"I'm trying," he yelled in frustration, voicing his thoughts instead of his intended polite response.

"I know," Rachel sighed, her voice placating and gentle. She understood the situation better than he did. He could look for five more days and never find anything because she had hidden what little existed to be found.

Rachel shared his hopeless desperation as she too looked for some way to prevent what was coming. She also felt guilt. Richard was paler than usual lately, with dark smudges beneath his eyes and frenetic energy pulsing in his every movement. Whenever she was with him, she could feel the tension radiating from him and she wished she could make it stop. She wished she could disappear. Five days left.

If Richard survived, maybe then he'd be able to sleep. Rachel knew that she was lying to herself. Her friends wouldn't be allowed to live. She'd killed them all the day she first said hello.

"Thank you for trying, but it isn't your job to protect me," Rachel reassured him. It seemed like the least she could do.

"I can't save anyone," Richard mumbled as he turned away from his friends, the bridge of his nose pressed between his fingertips. "I never could. Everyone falls around me."

Then he refocused.

"Are you okay, Rachel?" he asked. "You've been a little, well, paler than usual lately."

"It's nothing," she lied.

Richard knew not to believe her. Rachel knew he was hiding too. She wished he'd either respect her secrets or reveal his.

"Look," he said. "I know the man scared you, but we will figure out why he was after you and we will stop him from ever trying again."

"He doesn't concern me," Rachel replied, for once telling the truth. She wished she knew how Richard knew the masked man, but she wasn't afraid of the messenger. The message and its sender were a far greater concern.

Richard wanted to know what did concern her and Rachel wanted to tell him that whatever she did, she wouldn't fall, but neither had the courage to act. They also lacked the opportunity.

"Friends, the man with the 'S' is outside the window!" Kori screamed.

Why then, Rachel wondered dully, did all of her friends run outside?

* * *

Rachel swore softly to herself in whispering thoughts as she ran outside, running to Wayne Manor to go after them. Tonight wasn't the night, so she didn't know why the messenger had returned. She only hoped that the message he would deliver was for her. She remembered the fear she'd seen in Richard's eyes when he saw the masked man and she hoped that he wouldn't look at her that way when he learned the truth, but she feared that all of her friends would before the night ended.

* * *

Richard ran out into the night with confidence. He might be hurt, but the masked man wanted him alive. Richard was a fun toy, not to be broken lightly. If the masked man had been anyone else, maybe Richard would have reached the logical conclusion: he and his friends were walking into a trap.

"Why did you come back? What do you want?" Richard demanded, brashly, fearlessly.

"You want to know about this, don't you?" the man asked, gesturing to the 'S' on his mask.

The masked man laughed a sinister purr of a chuckle.

"I'm here to deliver a message," he said, answering only the original questions.

"Talk and we can all leave," Richard said. "You're not welcome here and I don't want to keep my friends out in the cold."

Even with the mask, Richard could feel the man's amusement.

"Oh Richard," the man said. "You were always brave to the point of foolish recklessness and you're still so naïve, despite everything. You don't understand. None of you are leaving here tonight. Not alive, anyways."

The teens' eyes widened, but none of them moved.

"This isn't about them," Richard challenged. "This has always been between you and me, Slade. Let them leave and we can finish this."

Victor, Garfield, and Kori exchanged a confused and concerned glance. Slade? They loved Richard and Rachel, but they would never understand how their friends lived in the shadows of their secrets.

"That's sweet, Richard," the masked man, Slade, said. "You still seem to have the wrong impression. 'This' isn't what you think it is. I enjoyed our time together, but that's over. The message isn't for you. You are the message for your pretty little dark friend, or at least your burning corpses are. Nothing else says 'daddy's back' with that much flair. She killed all of you the day she walked into your lives."

Rachel leaned her face into the rough, mossy bark of the tree that hid her from sight. It was over.

"Rachel's daddy?" Kori whispered. "Is this not the male person who cares for a child? I do not understand."

"Neither do I," Garfield muttered. "Does this mean she's known what we were up against the entire time?"

"So you've been investigating?" Slade asked. "Playing detective. How many sleepless nights have you had, Richard, trying to uncover answers? How does it feel knowing that between you and Rachel, you knew everything all along? I'll admit I was surprised when I found out. I knew she had to be less drab than she seems – I do credit you with some taste – but I never imagined her secret was something of this magnitude. It's always the quiet ones. Now, the white knight's golden boy is keeping company with Trigon's daughter."

"Trigon!" Victor exclaimed. "He's that psycho who tried to blow up the entire city right before the police caught him. There were over a hundred casualties!"

"She isn't her father," Richard said, his voice soft, but firm, as if his resolve came from a great distance. "Besides, Trigon's in jail."

The masked man shrugged, nonchalantly. This conversation was entertaining, but it meant very little to him.

"Not for long," he replied. "Rachel's going to break him out soon whether or not she wants to. She can't help it. She's spent her entire life training."

Slade looked at each teen disinterestedly.

"Well, I digress," he said. "My employer sent me to kill you, not tell you scary bedtime stories."

"You'll have to go through me," Richard snarled, stepping forward.

Slade shook his head with an air of amusement.

"You'll always be too slow, Richard," he said. "Besides, it's easier if you don't struggle and you know how I hate to see you suffer. This won't hurt a bit."

Richard cringed as if the words had struck a physical blow. He struggled as Slade raised a knife to his throat, but his fight lacked his usual spark. His light sputtered and died inside even as Slade approached.

Suddenly he was flying back, enveloped in the faint scent of vanilla.

"Want to bet?" Rachel growled.

She threw Slade to the ground. He stood quickly back up, but Rachel flung him into the tree beside her. She pressed his body into the cold bark. His knife was in her hand now.  
So was his life.

"Tell daddy he can stay in jail," Rachel hissed. "If you harm my friends, you'll envy his life sentence. The sentence in Hell is eternity."

Rachel stood in the spotlight of the moon and the stars, the healing cuts from her last encounter with Slade almost glowing on her arms.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Rachel taunted. "Aren't you going to attack? Or did your master forbid you from hurting me? Did he order you to keep his precious Raven safe? Well, this time I have a message for you."

She let him up for a moment, then shoved his head back with military precision, scraping it against the bark.

"You tell him that he'll have to destroy me before I'll help him."

"You can tell him yourself," Slade replied. "The hour is near."

Rachel smiled a feral and wild smile as she traced the blade of the knife along his sleeve.

"I'm not afraid of you anymore," she said, deadly rage barely concealed in her quiet voice.

To her astonishment, Slade laughed.

"No," he said. "Perhaps you don't fear me, but look who's afraid of you."

Rachel turned to follow his line of sight. Her icy gaze landed on her friends. They hadn't left, but their eyes were horrified and they stood close together like frightened children. Rachel let the knife drop from her hands.

"No," she whispered.

Slade slunk away into the darkness from which he came.

* * *

A short while later, Rachel sat safely between Kori and Victor on a couch at Wayne Manor. Garfield was draped across an armchair and Richard sat attentively on the couch opposite. Rachel blinked slowly before beginning her story.

"By now," she sighed, "you know that Trigon Roth is my father. He was arrested shortly before my birth after he tried to destroy the city. He should be locked up for life. However, with his resources and the right outside help, he could easily escape. The only reason he hasn't is a promise he made to my mother. She refused to help him in the last days before he was caught. She was afraid of him and afraid for me. He said that he understood and he promised her seventeen years before I was his. After New Years when I was seventeen, I would help him escape."

"I don't get it," Garfield interrupted. "You would never do something like that."

"He seems to believe I would," Rachel replied. "I don't know why, but I'm sure he has a better reason than familial obligation. When the time comes, I'll have no choice."

"Can you do it?" Richard asked, ever practical. "Regardless of whether or not you will, do you have the ability to get through that much security?"

"I think so," Rachel admitted. "That kind of job requires someone who can hack, act, plan, fight, and looks relatively innocent. Thanks to some lessons I didn't even know I was being taught at the time, I meet those requirements."

Richard nodded thoughtfully and leaned against the back of his chair.

"We'll focus on keeping him from taking you, then," he promised.

Rachel was grateful beyond words, but the sharing part of the evening wasn't over yet.

"We don't know what his plan is yet," she said. "It might help if we knew who and what he had to work with. What do you know about Slade, Dick?"

Richard slipped imperceptibly lower on the chair, but Rachel saw.

"He's usually an assassin by the name of Deathstroke, but he'll work odd jobs," Richard replied blithely, as if it was nothing to do with him. "Bruce has run up against him with some of his work in Wayne Industries. He's a logical choice for Trigon to work with."

"Okay," Rachel said, accepting his answer. It wasn't the whole truth, she knew, but she also heard the words "your father" whispering in the shadows of the name "Trigon". She had no right to question.

"Well," Kori said, "at least we have someplace with which to start."

"Too late," whispered the wraiths that lurked within Rachel's mind. "Too late."

* * *

**A/N: **Reviews make me feel guilty about not updating so - (ducks another virtual shoe).


	15. Chapter 15: If Today Was the Last Day

**Author's Note:** This is the beginning of the episode The End. It follows the plot pretty closely (in this chapter, anyway).

**Disclaimer:** In the last few minutes, I have not gained ownership of the Teen Titans. Shocking, I know. I took a lot of ideas and dialogue from the show. I also took Robin's adorable neologisms from Young Justice.

**Warning: **Brief suicide mention. Relax. I like the characters far too much to kill them off part way through the story.

* * *

**If Today Was the Last Day**

How did it ever come to this?

Rachel stood on top of the same building she'd almost fallen from when Slade first attacked and watched the world burn. She'd always half hoped that the end of the world would come with the destruction of the planet Earth by the dying sun, , or a meteor, or perhaps a black hole some millions of years after she died. Scientists believed that this would be the nature of the end. Rachel only wished that they were right,

Then, she would have died long before and none of it would affect her. Even if she was alive to die with the rest of humankind, it would be over in an instant. She'd be gone. Anything was better than watching the world die a few people at a time. One by one, streets emptied as fire spread across the city. She heard screams as people raced to escape monsters that Rachel couldn't see.

Even this was better than the view if she looked down. Kori, Victor, Garfield, Wally, and Jinx all lay dead on the unfeeling concrete. Beside them, was the worst sight of all. Richard was not the sort of person to let his girlfriend cause an apocalypse by herself. He followed her, and for that crime, he would die in agony as she watched. Rachel heard his cries. He begged her to end the torture, to let him die, but she couldn't do it. She couldn't look down.

She couldn't look, but she could join him. Somewhere along the way, she'd lost the knife that she kept for just this situation, but that wasn't much of an obstacle. She stepped off the roof without hesitation and allowed herself to be engulfed in the flame that spread through the street.

Rachel woke up wishing she'd really stepped into the fire. Then she got out of bed and wondered what one wore to the end of the world. Her five days were finally up.

At least it was the weekend.

* * *

She showed up at Richard's door with blank eyes, a forced smile, and a t-shirt Garfield had given her once that said "Welcome to the Apocalypse". She also wore the pendant Richard had given her. It rested with gentle coldness against her skin.

"Ah, Miss Roth," Alfred said opening the door. "Welcome. I'm afraid Master Richard isn't –"

"Rae?" a sleepy voice from further down the hall asked. Richard emerged from the shadows, yawning widely. "Wha's goin' on?"

Rachel kicked herself mentally. She'd begun the last day of her life by waking up her sleep-deprived best friend. It was too late to turn back though.

"Hey, Dick," she said brightly. "I thought we could hang out today, maybe invite Kori, Garfield, and Victor. I brought video games."

Richard took the games with a look of intense concentration. Video games + morning = happy Rachel? He really didn't understand what was happening and he wasn't awake enough to figure it out. For Rachel's sake, he'd play along anyway.

"No need to even invite them over," Richard replied. "They were helping me with some homework and ended up staying over. If you want to come into the dining room, we were about to have breakfast. Have some waffles and then we can, um, play video games."

Half an hour later, four very confused teens looked over the games Rachel brought.

"Dude," Garfield whined. "Why do you have a game with ninja kittens?"

Rachel blushed and looked away, eyes clouding over. She'd wanted to make them happy for one more day, and she was too much of a failure at friendship to manage even that. At least she'd made Kori happy. Kori had no problem with ninja kittens.

"They are so cute!" Kori squealed happily.

Personally, not that she'd ever admit it, Rachel agreed. The boys, apparently, did not.

"Yes they are," Richard affirmed in an "I'm the leader and you will agree with me tone" and a pointed look at Garfield. "Don't you think it was nice of Rachel to bring them over?"

"Yeah, thanks," Victor repeated, taking his cue from Richard.

Rachel sighed.

"Or we could just go hang out at the park," she offered.

Everyone eagerly accepted her suggestion. Rachel sat under a tree and watched the others play catch. Her breath formed ice crystals in front of her. She was willing to brave the cold for the chance to watch her friends' happiness. She wished she could join them, but it would cause more concern than joy. She'd content herself with watching.

"You alright?" Richard asked, sneaking up beside Rachel while she drifted in thought.

"I always am," she replied. Rachel meant her answer to be cheerful, but she couldn't hide the slight sardonic curl at the corner of her lip from the irony.

"Can't I just enjoy hanging out with my friends?" she sighed.

"Yes, but it's not that. You know I know you better than – "Richard began, but Garfield interrupted.

"Hey Rae!" he yelled. "Heads up!"

Rachel stood up and slipped around to the other, safer side of the tree.

"Watch it," she said, tossing the ball back, almost playfully. The others stared at her.

"What's with you today?" Garfield asked. "First video games, then the park, and now playing catch?"

Rachel didn't know what to say, but the park answered for her. One by one the lights around them went out and they were left standing in the pale winter light. Slowly, the blackout spread across the city and an orange 'S' was projected onto the clouds.

A lone tear froze on Rachel's face.

"What's going on?" Garfield asked anxiously.

Richard studied Rachel's face and glanced again at the sky.

"It's happening, isn't it?" he asked. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Please Rachel," Kori said. "Today is today. It's -" She broke off then, the thought too terrible to complete.

"The end of the world," Rachel finished.

* * *

She turned away from her friends. She couldn't watch their love, couldn't accept their sympathy, knowing that it was the end and she was to blame. She took another step and stumbled. In her momentary lapse in concentration, a few more tears slipped past her guard as she fell to her knees.

Richard caught her and held her without saying a word. Rachel let her eyes shut, content for the moment to have human contact and bask in his warmth.

"Not necessarily," Richard countered. He relinquished her to Victor and led his friends deeper into the darkening city.

"Where are you taking me?" Rachel asked as Victor carried her through door after door, following their friends into a Wayne Enterprises building.

"You said there was nothing we could do," Richard replied. "We disagreed, so we've been preparing. We just finished last night."

It was impressive work. Rachel would grant her friends that. The room belonged to one of the many Wayne tech branches, with accordingly sophisticated security. The only entrance was a single door, sealed by computer, virtually indestructible, and almost impossible to hack. If Rachel was safe anywhere, it was here.

"You did all this for me?" Rachel asked, confused and awed.

"We're ready to take on Trigon," Richard replied. His voice was cold with a rough rasp and ingrained seriousness, so, if she hadn't been watching, she would have missed the almost imperceptible nod that preceded his statement.

"You can't," Rachel pleaded. "Please leave and maybe you can save yourselves."

"We can and we will," Richard said. "Don't give up yet, Rae."

"Bad dude," Garfield added. "We get it, but we're still here."

Rachel wanted to scream at them until they heard or maybe physically force them to understand all that she did about her father. She was not so foolish as to doubt her friends and she didn't underestimate what a group of motivated and resourceful teens could accomplish, but her father was evil on a scale her friends couldn't comprehend.

"The plan's simple enough," Kori explained. "The Trigon has need of you, so we make certain he cannot have you."

"There's even a screen that shows cameras on the outside so you know what's happening," Victor showed her. His voice was businesslike and serious, but Rachel thought she heard an undercurrent of pride in it. He'd built something rather impressive and he knew it.

"This is all – great – but it's not going to make a difference." Rachel tried to play the voice of reason.

Richard ignored her.

"Stay in here," he ordered. "Call if you need us." Then leaning slightly closer, he whispered, "Stay traught," and turned away.

"What will you do?" Rachel called as he left.

"Tell the police everything we know," Richard replied without turning around. One by one, her other friends followed him out the door.

Garfield lingered for a moment in the doorway, feeling that he should say something.

"Good luck," he called. Rachel closed her eyes and turned away. Garfield walked to the door behind their friends, lingering for a moment, to give her a final smile.

The door closed behind him with a clang and a hiss. Everything was silent.


	16. Chapter 16: The Beginning of the End

**Disclaimer:** While I obviously spent the month since I last updated plotting to own the Titans, I haven't succeeded yet.

**Warning:** Brief gun mention. I could hardly have Slade holding a giant ball of fire.

* * *

**The Beginning of the End**

Outside, Richard turned and led the others towards some destination only known to him.

"What are you doing, man?" Victor asked. "The police station is the other way."

Richard smiled at him, an odd smile that only Kori had seen once before. It was tight and cold and dangerous. It said, "Oh by the way, everything I ever told you was a lie."

"We're not going to the police," Richard said. "They won't listen to a group of 'clearly troubled' teenagers. They never do. We're going after Slade ourselves."

"Everything is going to be okay, yes?" Kori asked uncertainly.

"I hope so," Richard replied, trying to make up for uncertainty with grim determination.

The other teens exchanged a doubtful glance, but they followed without protest.

The other teens drew closer to Richard as the sky grew darker and the street around them became more hopeless. The sirens that had pierced the air since the light went out faded into the distance. They were deep in the forgotten parts of the city now. It was a neighborhood where no one came intending to stay and parents locked their car doors if they drove through with young children. Poverty was not synonymous with crime, but the very air was stained with the despair of dashed hopes, the dregs of which were still gnawed on by criminals who lurked like rats in the shadows.

Kori and Garfield were from lighter worlds. Though they had known their own sorrows and shouldered their own burdens, they had never sunk to the levels that the street on which they walked could only dream of reaching. Victor had some experience with similar neighborhoods, but he still had a safe haven to return to. The three teens wondered why, then, did Richard glide through the gloom that obstructed them. They drew closer to him, hoping to share in the light that the darkness protected.

Kori was reminded of Rachel the night they met on Rachel's driveway. The streetlights had almost leaned away from her as she played master of the shadows.

"We are in over our hats, are we not?" she asked, sadly.

"You do seem a bit out of your element," a voice like black silk replied. "Really, Richard. Didn't Bruce teach you to stay in nice neighborhoods where being a billionaire's ward means something? Or does it mean nothing there either?"

"Slade," Robin growled. "We're ready for you."

"Where's the girl?" Slade asked.

"You can't have her," Richard replied, defiant as ever.

"You have no say in the matter. I'm taking her." Slade sounded almost amused, almost as if he smiled behind his mask.

"You and what army," Garfield challenged.

Richard tensed as men in dark clothes and masks like Slade's bled out of the shadows. Beside him, his friends took a step back, only to discover that there were people there as well.

"You just had to ask, didn't you?" Victor muttered, preparing for a fight.

* * *

Alone in her protective prison, Rachel fought another kind of battle. The phone call came almost as soon as her friends left. It was as if he knew she was finally alone.

"Hello?" Rachel asked anxiously, afraid her friends were already in danger.

"Hello daughter," a deep, resonant voice on the other end of the line responded. "Seventeen years is too long."

"Trigon," Rachel hissed.

"The time has come, Raven," he continued as if she'd never spoken. "Accept your destiny and take your place as the hand of the Followers of Scath. Rachel is nothing, an educated child at best, but Raven can take the world. Embrace the darkness you know lies within you."

"I am not like you," she protested.

It was hard for her to protest with memories whispering in her mind. _You're too quiet and you don't show any emotion. She's got these weird, intense eyes. She might be pretty if she wasn't such a freak. I'm sure she's not too upset; you know she doesn't have emotions. You know her type: holier than thou with a side of bitter and dark poetry. Why would he want me when someone as inherently good as Kori loves him?_

"You know better than to believe your own lies. You are part of me and you will fulfill your destiny." He pressed his advantage as if sensing her weakness.

"You wanted to protect your friends, to keep the truth from them, but you cannot hide from what you are. Your friends cannot stop the inevitable. They are doomed."

Rachel slunk back behind yet another protective wall in her mind, panting in desperation as he knocked down the hiding place she had just vacated. Her resistance crumbled because she recognized that she was powerless.

Trigon still had one more trick, beyond anything he had tried yet.

The screen on the wall, meant to keep Rachel connected to her friends, served its purpose. Static filled the screen, took the shape of an 'S' and then cleared to reveal the footage from a security camera pointed at her friends. Rachel watched in horror as Victor disappeared from the screen, blocked by four other men.

"Is this how you want them to spend their last day?" Trigon asked. "How can you bear to watch them suffer?"

"Don't hurt them," Rachel pleaded without hope. They might be knights or bishops in a world of pawns, but her father was the one playing the game. Rachel was nothing more than a piece in a game she couldn't see.

"I am not the one hurting them," he replied. "You are. You know what must be done."

"But father," Rachel begged. "I don't want to."

She watched as Victor reappeared on the screen, hands bound. She watched Garfield fall next. She couldn't see if he stood up again. As each blow fell, another piece of her world crumbled away.

"I know," she whispered. "I just don't understand."

* * *

Kori, left to face all of the other masked men while Richard fought Slade, was quickly overwhelmed. For whatever reason, the other men did not interfere with Slade's fight. It was between him and Richard, to win or lose alone.

Richard lost. A hit sent him falling back into a masked man and that was taken as defeat. The four captives were presented to Slade, all still struggling against their captors.

"Do you really want to spend your last day on Earth fighting?" Slade asked.

"This is not my last day," Richard yelled, still fighting futilely. He would at least die fighting for his friends. The universe owed him that.

Slade nodded thoughtfully and pointed a gun at Richard's chest.

"Stop!" a hard, female voice ordered.

The men holding the four teenagers released them and stepped back.

Rather than reacting in relief, the teens grouped together, eyes wary, as they scanned for an explanation.

Ranks of masked shadows parted before the woman as she directed them to clear a path.

"Rachel?" Victor asked.

She ignored him. She ignored all of them as she walked through darkened air to stand before Slade.

"I will go with you," she said, her words her formal agreement.

Richard threw himself in front of her, his arms flung out to create a shield.

"We won't let them take you!" he promised.

Kori knew Richard was missing something, but she wasn't sure what.

"Go back in the safe house," she said as if reassuring a small child. "Please, Rachel."

Rachel's face was expressionless, but Garfield saw the slightest blink that showed him the truth.

"No!" he yelled.

She turned away from her friends unhesitatingly until she saw that they intended to follow. Then, she reached into her bag and pulled out a handful of flasks. Her eyes met Richard's as she threw the flasks down and they stayed on him until the explosion that followed knocked him and all of her friends to the ground. She watched the moment of resignation in his eyes and she watched him fall. Powder from a couple of the flasks hung in the air around them like ash.

"Good luck," she whispered, turning away from them. "Be safe."

Raven spared a last look for the boy Rachel loved and walked away without looking back again.

"Let's go," she said, ordering Slade and her new team to follow.


	17. Chapter 17: If You Want to Get Out Alive

**Author's Note: **Plot development! Also, I'd still rate this T, but this is one of the chapters where it's a little bit of a dark T.

**Disclaimer:** This is fanfiction. Emphasis on the fan. I don't own the Teen Titans and I took the name of this chapter from a song.

* * *

**If You Want To Get Out Alive**

Raven walked beside Slade at the head of her army as she was briefed on the situation.

"We have a room ready for you if you need to prepare," Slade told her. "Otherwise, everything is ready for Trigon's return."

"You're a fool," Raven said. "Whatever he's promised you, he won't deliver."

"Dear child, you don't know what you're talking about," Slade replied.

"Oh?" Raven asked in a tone that would have been amused if Raven felt amusement. "You think I don't know my own father?"

Slade shook his head, dismissing her.

"You're just a pawn," he said, "an insignificant piece in Trigon's game."

"Then I suppose we have that in common," Raven mused without sign on an agenda. "And once he gets what he wants, you'll be insignificant too."

Raven watched him out of the corner of her eye to see if he took the bait. He had. Rachel had finally ruffled the unshakeable villain's tidy, metal feathers.

"Shut your mouth," Slade began.

He was interrupted when three of the faceless henchmen grabbed him from behind.

"Get off me," Slade yelled, uncomprehending. "Do as I command."

"Come to think of it," Raven taunted, "you're already insignificant, Slade. Even your own army won't listen to you."

Raven was only a chess piece in her father's game, but she was the queen and Slade was only a pawn.

As Slade struggled against the restraining arms of men he'd controlled only moments before, he thought he saw a familiar glint in Raven's eyes. Like father, like daughter.

"Leave him," Raven ordered, abandoning Slade at the doors of the maximum security facility, designed only to hold Trigon.

Much to Raven's annoyance, her ringing cell phone ruined her dramatic exit.

"Yes?" she hissed.

"Rachel!"

Richard. She gave a brief mental sigh.

"It has already begun," she told him. "There is no stopping what is meant to be." She couldn't quite keep the regret out of her voice.

"You're going to give up on everything?" Richard demanded. "I don't accept that. You can take control. You can make it not happen."

"I tried. I tried to be good, to do good, but I've known my entire life that it would end like this. I didn't know I would end up with such good friends and I just wanted to make your last day perfect. Instead you spent it worrying about me."

"That's what friend's do," Richard assured her. His voice was sweeter than childhood friends holding hands and more passionate than lovers' last kiss.

"I know that now," Rachel whispered, "but you have to let me go."

She hung up. Raven's dangerous, expressionless smile was back in place.

As she ascended the steps, the heavy security doors opened before her as she'd programmed them to do. It had already begun.

* * *

Raven had the manpower to take out the guard at the desk, but there was no reason to. The building was practically abandoned, with all but the minimum required security responding to the emergency in town. She could take her time with the first one.

The guard looked slightly overweight, sandy-haired, middle-aged and baffled. That made him an excellent mark if it was real, but this was a very secure facility, so it probably wasn't real. It didn't matter. He'd have to play the part. She'd play along and then break character before he knew they were playing the same game.

After Raven's theatrical entrance, she looked very small standing there. She let her shoulders slump forward and made her eyes wide and scared.

"Can I help you?" the man asked.

Raven sincerely doubted it.

"I h-hope so," she stammered. "Daddy's in here somewhere and I'm supposed to come find him because of the black out. But it's all so scary!"

She was howling by the end and the man put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"There, there," he said. "I'm sure we'll be able to find your dad. Where in the building does he work?"

Raven scrunched up her face like she was thinking hard.

She knew there were at least ten guard rooms, all manned by two people except for the entrance desk, and there were fewer than fifteen.

"Fifteen? I think?" Raven replied. "I dunno. It was the last one and it definitely started with a one."

"Twelve?" the guard asked gently. "There are only twelve posts, so he must be in that one."

The man was definitely more than he seemed because he almost had time to draw his weapon before the sedative she'd injected into his arm took effect. Still, Raven was already linking her computer to the main system before he hit the ground.

Station zero down. Twelve more to go. She waved her henchmen forward.

Raven allowed the men to take out most of the guard stations after she opened the doors and navigated around patrols. Doing so herself would have been a waste of time, which was the main reason for having henchmen.

The last room was an exception. She still had her men take out the guards, but she intentionally alerted the guards to their presence so that it would be a slightly longer fight. While her men fought, she slipped through to the final hallway, deactivating security cameras and barring the door as she went past.

Raven wanted to enter the final door alone.

* * *

Trigon was turned away from the door when she opened it. Raven suspected that it was a courtesy, though it could also have been for effect. In return, she met his strange, pale eyes as he looked at her. For a man responsible for half of her genetic material, he looked nothing like her.

"Seventeen years really is too long," he said, watching her through the bars that still separated them. "You were a baby the last time I saw you and now you're a woman, a beautiful Raven. You look a lot like your mother, but you take after me in spirit."

"I don't have to let you out," Raven reminded him, flatly, the fun of the game fading away.

To her dismay, Trigon shook his head.

"Enough pretenses, my daughter," he said. He stepped through the bars, revealing them for the illusion that they were, his eyes fixed on her the entire time. Suddenly, he was too close and she was too small. Raven remembered that this is what fear felt like.

She tried to step back, but his hand encircled her wrist.

"I don't understand," she protested. Some part of her was convinced that her lack of comprehension must change the nature of reality.

"Why are those fake? How much of this place is under your control?"

"Everything you have seen since you left your friends," Trigon replied. "I could have walked out of this facility any time, but I promised your mother seventeen years."

Raven was seriously concerned about the turn this conversation had taken. She'd could see the trap she'd walked into, but she couldn't figure out why it was there.

"Why bring me here?" she asked. "What could you possibly gain?"

Trigon smiled at her and for a moment she understood why a prison would be built for one man. The facts were that Trigon Roth, husband of Angela and father of Rachel, was arrested seventeen years ago and, resisting arrest, had a bomb intended to blow up the city. His original crime and where or why he planned to blow up the city were a complete mystery.

"It's this place, isn't it?" Raven realized. "What is it?"

"It was a research center. Your mother was a research scientist before she started playing do-gooder at the women's hospital. Did you know that?" Trigon replied. "She studied chemicals that affect the mind. My specialty was machines, but we both found ourselves working in the same building on different secret projects. We never would have found out if she hadn't come to a meeting of the Followers of Scath."

"The what?" Raven asked.

"Your heritage," he said. "What did your mother tell you it was? A social club? A cult? It was a league dedicated to mass change by a small, chosen few. We could reorder the world. You would support an end to hunger or political corruption? We share your ideals, but to have power, you need to take power. For that, we'd need a weapon the likes of which the world has never seen.

"That's where your mother came in. She worked to develop a drug that caused fear-based hallucinations in an absence of other stimuli. I created the machine for mass dispersal within a two hundred mile radius. Between the two of us, we could have saved the world.

"Then your mother discovered that she was pregnant with you. She was willing to risk herself for the world, but you had to be protected. I disagreed and believed you should be born into a better world than the one we lived in. We fought and she made a critical change to the machine I had built. That change is why you're here tonight.

"She said you could choose your own world and created a lock to the dispersal mechanism. It can only be activated by someone sharing both of our genetic codes. That, daughter, is why you are here. You will show the world that the Followers of Scath can carry out its threats. You will save the world by ending it."

"I won't," Raven said, pulling away and covering her ears. "I won't do it and I won't listen."

She remembered Richard screaming at her, because he believed Kori was in danger and he was terrified. She remembered holding him after the nightmare and reassuring him that he wasn't alone. She felt physically ill knowing that her mother discovered the drug responsible and she would not release that over her city.

"The time for refusal has past," Trigon said. "It is your destiny and you will fulfill it. Your consent is not necessary, only your DNA. I have the power here."

He held Raven by the wrists as he dragged her farther down the hallway, still struggling and wriggling in his grip.

She broke free as she reached the door, but was recaptured before she even took a step. Raven heard a slight pop as Trigon yanked her left wrist, but she felt no pain. Instead, there was hollow horror.

"No," she begged. "Please."

The time for talking had also past. Trigon pricked Raven's finger on the control panel and they watched as the computer scanned her DNA.

"User recognized as Trigon Roth and Angela Roth. DNA sequence accepted. Dispersal will be complete in 10 . . . 9 . . ."

He pulled a lever and both he and the machine began to rise.

"Goodbye, my Raven. You came willingly, sparing me the obligation to reward Slade for bringing you, and for that you may keep your life for now."

With that, Trigon Roth was gone.

"2 . . . 1. . . Dispersal is complete."

Rachel curled into a tight ball on the ground, using her jacket to cover her face. Her wrist was just beginning to ache.

* * *

**A/N: **I will update! Just maybe not for a while. Terrible place to leave off, I know. I'm sorry.


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